I had nine of them so no end of subject matter for this story based on the word siblings. My dad believed if you did not get along with one of your siblings it was because you were too much alike. I mostly got along with all of mine. I had three older brothers and six younger sisters. We are all different.
My mom said the girls were easier to raise than the boys. There is a seventeen-year age difference between the oldest and the youngest along with a few miscarriages. I have no end of admiration for my mother. She worked at home. My dad worked away but was mostly home every night.
We played a lot. We had enough kids around and neighbour families had four, six or eight children in them, so football, baseball, skating and yard games were always on the go. Kick the can and pump pump pull away were favorites and you need lots of kids for hide and seek or anti-i-over.
We made forts out of the bale stacks and houses out of the trees. Even the work was more fun when there were lots around. Making cakes, peeling potatoes, getting water, bringing in the bales, calling the cows, balancing on the stone boat, falling off and running to catch up and the laughter makes me smile again thinking about it.
The oldest and the youngest have health issues in that they were both hospitalized in the last few months. I have one sister that died nearly thirty years ago. I am closer to my sisters than my brothers.
This summer we were all together at a family reunion. We still have the inside jokes and the jump from subject to subject. We know how to follow the conversations; the in laws shake their heads.
When the nieces and nephews began the water balloon fights all of us siblings, were right in to it like there was no tomorrow.
December 10, 2012
ellensagh 