Recently, I came across National Daughter’s Day, which got me thinking: Shouldn’t there be a National Sibling Day? And what do you know? There is!
I come from a large Irish Catholic family, and we think, actually we know, we are the funniest, smartest group around. And pretty good looking, too. Or so we tell ourselves.) Each of us falls into certain behavior based on our birth order. I am the youngest, so I will always be the spoiled brat. My older sister is bossy. My middle two brothers often seem to forget they are related to us, and my two oldest brothers run the family. What is amazing, though, is we all get along with each other, or at least we pretend to.
As the youngest, I always thought I got cheated out of the ‘really fun’ memories. My brothers would start a story, “Remember the time Dad took us sledding and we didn’t clear the sawhorse. Dennis got smashed. Boy, was Mom mad.” Or, “What about when Mike got his head in John’s way when he was swinging that lead pipe?” As the youngest, with 13 years between me and my oldest brother, I wanted to have some fun and funny memories—like smashing into the saw horse. But it became clear to me that my really fun memories would have to be made as an adult. So what better way to do it than by forcing everyone to go to lunch once a month? No parents, spouses or kids allowed. You’d better show up, because if you don’t, you’re fair game to be talked about.
I have often thought these lunches should be taped and played on YouTube. My oldest brother, John, selects the date and location. I used to do it, but he moved into town and usurped my authority. There is no drinking at lunch, since the amount of cackling and laughing would get really out of hand—did I mention we’re Irish? Even though we are all well into our 50s and 60s, this lunch ritual is a special siblings time to bond without any distractions.
Each ends with the waitress trying to guess who is the oldest and who is the youngest. They always choose Tim as the youngest. Who is a good seven years older than me. This leads to more squawking, followed by several hours of me staring into the mirror at home, trying to figure out what I can get injected into my face to bring my youth back.
I love my siblings and think they would take a bullet for me … well, except for one, who I can hear right now say, No way, she is insane, I am not sure I even like her that much. But what these sibling lunches have forced us to do is get to know each other as adults. We came from a family that was not big on hugging and ‘I love yous,’ but these lunches always end with a round of that, even if it is a little awkward.
Since the holidays are right around the corner, now is the perfect time to start your own family tradition of sibling lunches. It is a great way to put any long-ago hurts behind you, like John hitting Mike with the lead pipe. And it is also nice to know that even if these people weren’t my siblings, I would still want them as my friends. Well, except for one.
[Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.]
