It wasn't supposed to end this way. But then, does it ever end the way that it should? My sister is much in my mind these days. As much as our parents did, she raised me. She's 6 years older than me. Over the course of our lives, that has been both a blessing and a curse. It was mostly a blessing for me, and mostly a curse for her. In her teens, when she should have been footloose and fancy free, she had a younger brother to look after. And look after me she did. In spades.
I have always admired my sister. Put her up on a pedestal, even. She's one hell of a woman, and always has been.
She was always the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" in the family...waiting until her 38th birthday until finally sliding into marriage. At her wedding, the first dance between her and her groom was a rendition of Lyle Lovett's "She's No Lady, She's My Wife".
She was 38, he was 30. My Mom always thought that discrepancy in age would come back to haunt her, but I never did. And as she faces this change in her life, at a most inopportune time (is any time opportune?) I still don't.
I wish I knew what to say to my sister, what words of comfort to offer her. I don't.
Lilly Ledbetter may address equal pay for equal work, but when it comes to a marriage that dissolves at the age of 62, there's no legislation that can level that playing field, and both my sister and I know it. We have talked at length since her husband dropped the bomb on her this past January...but I couldn't say with any certainty what her greatest fear is. I know what her disappointments are, but not her fears, if she has any. And I'm pretty sure she does.
Paul McCartney penned one of the Beatles' great songs, "When I'm 64."
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I'm 64...
My sister got the answer to that question a couple of years early.
"Ummm, actually no..."
But I am not going to spend this diary dumping on my Brother in Law. I actually like the guy. And as any adult would have to admit, it usually takes two to tango. My sister and her husband are the quintessential victims of "the empty nest syndrome", as much as I can tell. And the writing was on the wall.
They both had their flings, over the past 4 years. And not surprisingly, they each looked backwards in their dissatisfaction with the status quo, and resumed relationships from their past. I understand that. It's much easier to rekindle intimacy once experienced, providing it didn't end badly, than it is to kindle a new fire with someone you've never known. It's like slipping your feet into a pair of well worn boots. They just slide right in, and the leather conforms to your feet as if you had never stopped wearing them.
Okay...perhaps that is a bad metaphor. But only because of the word "leather."
I know my sister is afraid on some level. And I don't know how to assuage that fear. She has always been there for me, for my entire life, and right now I find myself uncertain as to what to say or do to make her feel better. She was always the solid one...the responsible one, the driven one, the unshakable one. Now, she is a little shaken. She's looking at life at 62, turned upside down, and wondering what will happen. Perhaps she is looking at herself, in the mirror...she's still good looking, and even though it's popular to say that 60 is the new 40...she is 62. I'm pretty sure that weighs heavily upon her mind.
What do you say? "There's plenty more fish in the ocean?" That's not exactly true, and it is stupid. Plus...in my sister's case, she has almost always had lovers who were younger than she is. That's just the way it worked out. I wonder if she is thinking about the prospects of finding another mate, at some point, who might not be younger than she? That is a superficial thought, but I suspect it may be swirling around in her head..."Who, if anyone, is next at this stage?"
I have engaged in serial marriage, for my own part. I am on my third wife. It's easy for me to be flippant when it comes to these matters, which explains why I am on my third wife. My sister waited until she thought she had the one. For me, the one was all too often a function of lust. My sister was not made of such stuff.
Still...it fell apart. They had one child, and as soon as my niece graduated High School and went off to college it all started to unravel. The house was suddenly empty, with nothing to divert their attention upon other than their own mutaul habits that grated upon them both, and the gaping hole that had developed in their marriage that focusing all of their attention upon their daughter had plastered over.
So....what now?
Dan, my Brother in Law, has rekindled an old flame from his college days. She is younger than my sister, but only a year younger than he...so it would be unfair to ascribe this to seeking "a younger woman." But she is quite well off, financially, which seems to bother my sister to no end.
Last time I spoke with my sister on the phone, a week ago, she had obviously had a bottle of wine under her belt, and when I suggested that living alone has it's own merits, just from my own experience, she replied "I don't mind living alone, but I don't want to be alone."
I didn't know what to say to that...None of us want to be alone.
And for a 62 year old woman, I can't fully put myself in her shoes and know exactly how she is feeling, or what she is fearing.
All I know is that I am 56 years old, and it amazes me, to this day, just how tight and how deep the bond is between my sister and I. In many ways...we are still those teen aged kids, whose parents both had to work, and had to depend upon each other for so many things...Breakfast, lunch..sometimes dinner. She kept an eagle eye on me as I was growing up, and had to assume a degree of responsibility that was probably unfair...but she shouldered it.
I will always be indebted to her, and I will always love her more than anyone in this world. And she will never know how deep that love is, in spite of all the normal sibbling bullshit and cat and dog fights we had growing up.
It tears me up to see her going through this. She didn't expect it. None of us did.