I am an only child by chance, not choice. Two baby brothers died at birth when I was six and seven years old. I grew up on the farm with my English bulldog, Tony, and my pony, Millie. On holidays and special occasions, my parents and I celebrated with Mom’s oldest sister, her husband and their two daughters, who were more than ten years older than I was. I felt like a little adult who became a big adult.
I attended the nearby country school that never had more than ten students. For six years, I was alone in my class. I whipped through text books at my own rate. Beginning with seventh grade, I rode a yellow bus to junior high in town. Each of my thirty new classmates had at least one sibling. I was an anomaly. Only boys could participate in competitive school sports so I never learned to be a team player.
When I married and became the mother of three children, I felt it was my duty to join school and church groups. Most committees drove me crazy. A whole meeting could be spent discussing the pros and cons of serving peanuts or mixed nuts with refreshments at an upcoming event. My thought was pick one and move on. The zinger came later when a phone call from the chairperson changed the decision finally reached.
I have friends, but I’m more apt to get together with one or two instead of a bunch for lunch. When I spend a day shopping in the city, I’m comfortable taking a break by myself in a nice restaurant relaxing with a glass of wine and eating a salad topped off with dessert.
As a writer attending conferences, I know the value of making contacts. At the end of the day, I’m happy alone in my hotel room.
How have siblings or lack of them shaped your life?