Cousins

I spoke on the telephone with one of my sisters today. Her name is L.

I have two sisters, but I only have contact with L. She is the sister who is one year younger than me. The other sister (the one I don't speak with) is eight years younger than me. Anyway, I spoke with L today.

We recently sent parcels to Australia and NZ for xmas, and I heard from L that she had received hers. I was happy to hear that, as our parcels are usually packed full of gifts and other things that we've been saving up all year.

Somehow we got on to the subject of family visits. My sister L and her husband are missionaries. They live about 2,500 km from my parents, and also from my youngest sister and her family. When my sister L takes her vacation time, she goes either to visit my parents or her husband's parents (who live in the USA).

Somehow I had always thought that when we live back in Australia, although we won't live around the corner from my parents, we would have more physical contact with my sister L. I had always thought that even though we would live 300+ km from my parents (and therefore even further away from my sister L), we would see L and her family more often. They would visit us, or we would visit them.

Yet today, when I was speaking with L on the phone, she said that she visits my parents (and my youngest sister who lives not far from them) because she wants her children to bond with their cousins. That's what she said. She wants her children to bond with their cousins. That is, with my youngest sister's kids.

We grew up in Australia away from most of our cousins. Most of our cousins lived here in the Netherlands. We really never knew them as children. We met them as adults, when they visited us in Australia, or (in most cases) when we visited them in the Netherlands. So my sister L and I have always had this yearning. A yearning to grow up with cousins. It's only now, as I live in the Netherlands, that I realise we yearned for something that didn't really exist. My cousins here in the Netherlands are scattered. They have no relationship with each other. They are all so different. And the cousins we grew up with in Australia are more like us than we know. We've been yearning for something that never existed, and never would have existed.

But my sister's desire for her children to have this bond with their cousins puts me firmly in my place. I have no children for her children to bond with. This fantasy I have had of spending more time with my sister and her three girls was just that: a fantasy. She will take her children to what she wants most for them: their cousins.

I said to my sister that I was looking forward to going camping with them. She said they only ever go camping for one or two nights, because they use all their vacation days to visit family so the girls can bond with their cousins.

And there it was.

If we want to see them, and spend time with them, we will have to go to them. They won't come to us. And camping with them will not really be an option, because their vacation days are saved for others.

It was like a slap in the face.

I have a brother also. He's also younger than me. Three years younger. That's right: I'm the oldest of four. My brother is gay. He came out (of the closet) in the year that Freyja was born. He has no real relationship with our sister L. He thinks that she is judgmental of his homosexuality. And in a way she is. Because she is a fundamental christian. So his homosexuality is contrary to what she believes. But she doesn't say that to him. She is not vocal about her judgment. She loves him because he is her brother. But we all know what she believes, and his sexuality doesn't fit with it. I know this because I too was once a christian, as was my brother. Before he came out, my brother was the most fundamental christian in our family.

Anyway, after my brother came out, he ceased having contact with my sister L. He doesn't speak with her, or send her cards, or remember her kids birthdays. I understand why he does what he does. Because I know what L believes. I don't believe what she does. I am no longer a fundamental christian. I stopped believing on the day that Kees died.

But today was the first day that I suddenly realised that even if my brother had not stopped communicating with my sister L, her contact with him would be minimal. Because he has no children. He has not provided any cousins for her children. And she only spends her vacation time with my parents and our youngest sister, so that her children can bond with their cousins.

(This despite the fact that her husband has a brother in Australia who also has two children. My sister L and her husband never seem to spend any time with them.)

So my brother and I, we're left out in the cold. My brother because he chose to be (although he would have been left out anyway), and I because my children are all dead.

Yet another life that I might have lived.

Our future life in Australia will certainly be different from anything I have ever imagined. And not in a good way.

Fear

I was reading a post at Glow In The Woods recently. About being alone. And it really struck a chord with me.

I never feared being alone. Until after my children died. Because suddenly my life bubble had popped. There was suddenly no such thing as "happily ever after". Suddenly I realised that life is fleeting. That life is precious. That we have no control over how long we live or when we die.

So I suddenly feared being alone. I feared losing Craig. And it's not getting any less. That fear. In fact, the fear just keeps growing.

I have read other blogs, other posts, also written by baby-lost mommas, where they also have that fear. But most other BLM's go on to have perfectly healthy, living children. So their fear subsides. The constant fear lessens for them.

But my fear is very real. And it hasn't lessened. In fact, with the deaths of Freyja, then Kees and then Jet, my fear increased. So that today, when it's more than two years after Jet's death, I still wake in the middle of the night, and have to check that Craig is warm and breathing. (After waking to find Jet cold and dead, warm and breathing is critical.) And every time I wake and go to check Craig, there's a part of me that fears finding him cold and dead. Just like I found Jet.

Craig has been doing lots of work on our car recently. He's been doing most of the work at a friend's place. Our friend has a driveway, garage and lots of tools. All things which we don't have. Anyway, today we are at our friend's place. Initially Craig was going to go by himself, and I would stay at home. But over the last few days I became so anxious about it, about him travelling 100 km down south, and then 100 km back north again, that I came along with him (like I usually do). The anxiety, the fear, the worries - I couldn't do it. It's far simpler to just come along.

I wonder whether this fear will ever go away.

I wonder if I will ever be able to let Craig go and do things on his own.

I wonder whether I will ever wake at night and not fear he is dead.