My husband's youngest sister was a change of life baby. She was one year old when we were married and came to farm. The next sister was 16 years older, a senior in high school when we got there, and soon gone. So the youngest was raised as an only child, except for her older brother, my husband, 24 years her senior, who for all intents and purposes was not only a brother to her but who gave her a father's wisdom she has called upon all her life.
My MIL was able to raise this baby with all the enjoyment, love and affection she had not been able to give her earlier children. As the youngest sister, she was petted and coddled and expected to be the glue that helped keep the wayward parts of the family together. It was a weight this beautiful girl, smart and sane and sensitive and loving, never should have had to bear, and it nearly destroyed her before she was able to get away, following her through therapy, Prozac, and finally to a happy family life of her own.
A few years after we started farming, the Sister Twin moved up the road into an abandoned basement (now condemned) with her husband and several young children. She was married at 19 to a shy, academic, local young man. He had grown up farming and even with a college degree believed that all he could do was farm, even though he was allergic to alfalfa and disliked livestock in general and working with his father in law in particular. He never really was very successful at it, finally finding other sorts of work that suited him better before he was killed at age 39 when his pickup was hit by a train.
But the Sister Twin wanted to farm, mostly because we were already there and didn't deserve to be. Sister Twin would go every morning to her mother's with her children and stay all day, even into the night, so that when her husband came home for dinner, it was to his mother in law's. My MIL, who had never learned boundaries, was helpless once again, and the pattern continued for years.
Eventually Sister Twin and her family, now with six children, moved about 20 minutes away, which was not far enough. We found out later that every day after school she would call her youngest sister and complain about her life, that she shouldn't have to take care of so many children, and that the youngest sister didn't deserve to be happy without her and should come help her.
Our oldest daughter was 2 1/2 years younger than the youngest sister, and they were like sisters to each other. With one problem: my daughter was asked by her young aunt to accompany her often, but when these trips ever included the Sister Twin, I could count on the fact that my daughter would never, ever be home when I asked. It was sometimes half a day late, and it came to the point that I refused to let her go anymore. I didn't realize at the time whose fault this was, but the youngest sister was caught, unhappy, and afraid of my anger.
I know now how it happened. After MIL passed away from cancer, my husband and I began to realize the ferocity of Sister Twin's hostage taking, and since her mother, her original hostage, was gone, she would now start on the youngest sister and her oldest daughter. This, in fact, happened very quickly. Our warning to the youngest sister's husband, a protective and straight-arrow male, helped put a stop to it.
I've apologized to the youngest sister for the tug-of-war over my daughter, who I realize now was her thread of sanity when she was forced to spend time with the Borderline sister. She has forgiven me, as she does everyone, although she has not yet let the Sister Twin visit her family home in spite of pressure from her father to not be so unforgiving.
She does let her father come, out of respect to the memory of her beloved mother; he believes himself to be a good father, even though he threatened and bullied her all of her life and had continual arguments with her mother. For a year after she left home, until she had therapy, she wished and dreamed he would die, to her great and understandable mortification.
My MIL was able to raise this baby with all the enjoyment, love and affection she had not been able to give her earlier children. As the youngest sister, she was petted and coddled and expected to be the glue that helped keep the wayward parts of the family together. It was a weight this beautiful girl, smart and sane and sensitive and loving, never should have had to bear, and it nearly destroyed her before she was able to get away, following her through therapy, Prozac, and finally to a happy family life of her own.
A few years after we started farming, the Sister Twin moved up the road into an abandoned basement (now condemned) with her husband and several young children. She was married at 19 to a shy, academic, local young man. He had grown up farming and even with a college degree believed that all he could do was farm, even though he was allergic to alfalfa and disliked livestock in general and working with his father in law in particular. He never really was very successful at it, finally finding other sorts of work that suited him better before he was killed at age 39 when his pickup was hit by a train.
But the Sister Twin wanted to farm, mostly because we were already there and didn't deserve to be. Sister Twin would go every morning to her mother's with her children and stay all day, even into the night, so that when her husband came home for dinner, it was to his mother in law's. My MIL, who had never learned boundaries, was helpless once again, and the pattern continued for years.
Eventually Sister Twin and her family, now with six children, moved about 20 minutes away, which was not far enough. We found out later that every day after school she would call her youngest sister and complain about her life, that she shouldn't have to take care of so many children, and that the youngest sister didn't deserve to be happy without her and should come help her.
Our oldest daughter was 2 1/2 years younger than the youngest sister, and they were like sisters to each other. With one problem: my daughter was asked by her young aunt to accompany her often, but when these trips ever included the Sister Twin, I could count on the fact that my daughter would never, ever be home when I asked. It was sometimes half a day late, and it came to the point that I refused to let her go anymore. I didn't realize at the time whose fault this was, but the youngest sister was caught, unhappy, and afraid of my anger.
I know now how it happened. After MIL passed away from cancer, my husband and I began to realize the ferocity of Sister Twin's hostage taking, and since her mother, her original hostage, was gone, she would now start on the youngest sister and her oldest daughter. This, in fact, happened very quickly. Our warning to the youngest sister's husband, a protective and straight-arrow male, helped put a stop to it.
I've apologized to the youngest sister for the tug-of-war over my daughter, who I realize now was her thread of sanity when she was forced to spend time with the Borderline sister. She has forgiven me, as she does everyone, although she has not yet let the Sister Twin visit her family home in spite of pressure from her father to not be so unforgiving.
She does let her father come, out of respect to the memory of her beloved mother; he believes himself to be a good father, even though he threatened and bullied her all of her life and had continual arguments with her mother. For a year after she left home, until she had therapy, she wished and dreamed he would die, to her great and understandable mortification.
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