I have occasionally mentioned my sisters in my blog. They were, after all, witnesses to - and in many cases the cause of - many of my memories; both good and bad. Today is my sister Kim's birthday, so I decided to use this forum to share a few of my memories about growing up with Kim.
I always figured Kim was switched in the hospital with someone else's baby. She didn't fit.
She was blond. Everyone else had dark hair.
Kim hated camping. Everyone else loved camping.
Kim hated going to camp. Everyone else looked forward to the week at camp each summer.
Kim hated playing in "dirty" lakes and rivers. Everyone else loved swimming in the lakes and rivers.
Yes, I was convinced that Kim didn't really belong to us.
But biggest clue of them all, though, was that Kim was prissy.
Prissy doesn't seem to fit our family. Kim loved to sew and probably could have made a nice living designing and sewing high-end, custom clothes for people if she hadn't decided to get married and have kids. Of course, it couldn't have helped a budding custom clothing business to have to move every couple of years when the U.S. Army decided whatever base or country they were in at the time had seen enough of Chris and decided to send him off somewhere else.
I'm also pretty convinced that Kim was Mom's favorite; maybe because Kim personified those things Mom wished she was. Basically, Mom wasn't prissy. She was comfortable in life, but she certainly would never have been mistaken for being prissy.
Mom was constantly yelling at me for not being nice to Kim. Since Mom did not have any brothers, she failed to understand that I was being nice to Kim; I just had a slightly different definition of nice than she did.
Anyway, one year Mom decided that it would help my coordination if Kim gave me "private" dance lessons. What a monstrously bad idea that was!!! I still remember her trying to teach me to skip backwards in the room that served as our family room/TV room. I'm not constructed in a way that allows me to skip in either direction! Fortunately, the only windows into the room faced the back yard and "The Witch's" house, so there was no chance of any of my friends catching me in the middle of a stupid dance lesson.
Dancing was not in my wheelhouse, so to speak. I played hockey and, in hockey, my favorite thing of all to do was to separate the man from the puck. In other words; I liked hitting people. You are not allowed to hit people in dance class. What fun is that?
Needless to say, the private dance lessons lasted all of one week before Kim quit in total frustration. I was delighted to hear her report to Mom that I was - get this - incorrigible! For those of you who aren't familiar with the word; it is an adjective that, when used in reference to a person means, "Not able to be corrected, improved or reformed."
Yep, that was me! I couldn't be improved because I was already so awesome... So maybe that wasn't the context of the definition Kim was thinking of at the time, but it was pretty cool to hear your ten year old sister refuse to be around you!
Kim outgrew some of her prissiness at some point, but for the most part that's still just part of her. Maybe a bit of Nana skipped a generation and ended up in Kim.
Sometimes it is hard to believe that her kids are grown, married and have kids of their own. Sarah and Bryan claim that she was a nicer Mom than she was a sister; although I suspect they only make that claim when it's likely to get back to Kim.
So Kim celebrates another birthday today. Somehow she has managed to survive living in Europe during Chernobyl, raising two kids, kidney cancer, becoming a certified doula, becoming a certified lacation counselor and being related to me for another year. While I'm not one to share a woman's age; suffice it to say she falls into that vast category known as middle aged.
Despite the fact that Kim is all grown up, I don't think of her as Nanna to two little boys. No, my memories of Kim more often center on that day in the family room when I was crowned as the incorrigible little brother.
Happy Birthday, Kim!
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