Familial relationships are complex. Although I don’t talk about them often, I have two sisters. One lives out of the country and one lives down the freeway, about 20 minutes away. I’ve never been exceptionally close to either one of them but logic would seem to dictate that I would at least be close to the sister that lives 20 minutes away. Unfortunately, as we are all painfully reminded at some point in our lives, there are always things that happen that just don’t have any logical explanation. My relationship with my middle sister is one of those things.
When my parents, z”l, died so did my relationship with K. We’ve not spoken since she stormed out of my house in a fit of rage over the fact that I refused to attend a dinner at which her significant other would be in attendance but mine would not be invited. That was last April. I received an e-mail from her for my birthday in October. That was our last contact.
There’s a saying that is often repeated in 12-step meetings – insanity is repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different result. I’ve not contacted my sister because I know the result won’t be any different from what it’s been since my father died four years ago. K and I will exchange pleasantries for five minutes or so and shortly after that the conversation will turn into a shouting match over things that happened four years ago – it always does and it always will. That being said, it doesn’t mean that my choice isn’t difficult and doesn’t come without consequences and it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t like to call her and be a part of her life. I just know that for the sake of my own sanity, I can’t. However, she’s still my sister and it’s still a painful decision. With both of my parents gone she is one of the last two members of my family of origin that I have left.
Today I discovered, quite accidentally via Facebook, that she and her boyfriend have purchased a house and are moving. And I cried. I really am out of the loop – and out of her life.