Writing Isaiah Entry #19

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Writing Isaiah 

Entry #19 

September 16th 2013

Lyssa Howley

I must admit when you asked me to think of a prompt for your pregnancy blog I was both honored, that you believe I could inspire something creative and beautiful out of you, and bewildered because I'm not a parent, because I anxiously await the day I become a mother both with hopefulness and fear. There are a million things I could ask you about parenting Aurora and Isaiah. In fact, there are a million things I want to ask you. But something much more painful and "fleshy" resides with me right now. Co-existing with a sibling can be one of the most life-giving and life-sucking experiences. As an older sister, I carry a deep love for my mini-me, who is nothing like me. Who inspires constant joy and a constant sense of helplessness. Adding another being into the mix will surely bring both joy and helplessness, love and pain to Aurora in the years to come. My question lies in here, somewhere. What truths do you already hold about this whole sibling dynamic? What are your hopes, fears, nuggets of wisdom, and elements of unknown around this new relationship--Aurora as an older sister, Isaiah as a younger brother?

Emily Joye McGaughy-Reynolds 

So, Lyssa, honey, I know nothing. Seriously. I've never had a sibling. Not in the traditional sense, anyways. I have a half brother and half sister, biologically. But I didn't meet them until I was 30. That's late. And the man who raised me until I was 13 had a daughter and son, who came for visits sometimes, but we weren't "related." You know? Feels almost impossible for me to answer this question you've posed given my sheer ignorance, my lack of experience, the absence of context that I bring to this topic. 

Almost impossible. 

I can, though, offer my hope, which is, in essense, born of the absence of siblings in my life. So maybe I do have a context. But it seems like my thoughts are more projections of what can be based on my experience of what has not been. That may or may not make sense to you. Let me be more concrete. I've watched other families all my life. Families that had multiple parents, multiple children, big ole families, the kind where kids had each other as much as they had their parents. And I watched with absolute fascination. Like a total outsider, taken with something foreign, strange, alluring. As a kid I felt so alone most of the time. My mom's presence was the one and only constant, but even in that relationship there were differences that couldn't be bridged--mostly the age difference, but there were others. When I watched siblings, I saw something that I projected "less aloneness" onto. I imagined that those sisters or brothers or sister/brother combos had a love in each other's company that rendered them less alone. And honestly I suspect that I was right in some cases. When I look at J.R. and his sister Susan, I know without a doubt that their relationship makes both of their lives better, more full of love. When I think of how my friend Ian and his brother Pat connected with each other as little one's living in the shadows of parental alcoholism, I know their sibling relationship literally saved them. When my girl Anna talks about the protection she feels toward her sister Emily, I know there is sacred union between them. All this to say: when I was projecting less aloneness onto the various pairs under my observation, I was probably right if their relationships played out like any of the ones I just mentioned.   

But I've also been in the pastoring/counseling business long enough to know that sibling relationships don't always feel like gold. In fact, some feel like shit, from day one forward. That's what I hear anyways. Siblings can fight all their lives. They can betray each other. They can come undone under sibling rivalry, jealousy and the need to be #1 in the sight of their parents. It's pretty relevant, to me anyways, that the first story of murder in the Bible happens brother to brother. The question "Am I my brother's keeper?" resounds as the ultimate indictment of patriarchal, competitive masculinity in the site of God. But I've seen/heard/known some serious unrest between sisters too. 

So, yes, I carry large fear that something will trigger them into hatred of each other. But fear rarely serves me. Instead I find myself concentrating on/questioning/pondering/curious about how and why sibling relations can turn out so differently? 

Like, why do some siblings connect and deepen their love throughout life? Why do some have a prickly orientation toward one another that just grows worse with each passing year? And all those in between, the more nuanced sibling relationships that contain love, hatred, camaraderie, jealousy, indifference, grief--why do those function the way they do? Since I try to not be compartmentalized in my thinking, it's at this point that I'll admit I think multiple factors influence this stuff: biology, culture, parental expectations, the role of emotion in family systems, religion, class, gender, the list goes on and on. And I wonder given all those different factors, that are each quite complex in their own right, how a parent can influence siblings for the good. I think parents do have some power in this regard. Not all power, but definitely enough to take that power seriously. So the question for me, today, is how I might use my parental power to interact with Aurora and Isaiah, individually and as a pair, in ways that bring about meaning, connection, intimacy and love between them. 

I find behaviorist psychology a rather mixed bag, honestly. But I am a firm believer in the power of reinforcing/rewarding positive behavior and ignoring/punishing bad behavior as a way of conditioning future behavior. I know "good and bad behavior" are subjective and this stuff gets much more complicated as life goes on. But right now, it doesn't feel so complicated to me. Like, things that put Aurora in danger are bad. I make sure to say "no" or to block her from moving in directions of harm. Good things look like exploration, creativity, safe risk, connection with others. I make sure to say "thank you" or "what an amazing thing you just did!" when Aurora does good stuff. One thing I plan to do very early on is reward any/all of what Aurora does to show affection to her little brother. When she exhibits care for him, I plan to shower her with praise and affirmation. When Isaiah gets old enough to do the same toward her, I will, again, very intentionally try to reward that good behavior. Like wise, when they interact in ways that are harmful, I will either ignore it (if it feels like attention-seeking behavior) or verbally put a stop to it. It's not rocket science and even typing this feels overly simplistic. And it won't always work. But that's one of my approaches. 

Another approach to parenting that I find super helpful is one that puts relational modeling at the core of teaching power. Like I really really believe that we learn how to do relationships by watching/experiencing how our care givers are in relationship with themselves, with us and how they are in relationship with others. In essence, I think Aurora and Isaiah will learn a lot about how to be in relationship with each other by watching how J.R. and I are in relationships of various kinds. How we treat others. How we allow others to treat us. How we treat each other. How we treat them, again, individually and as a pair. This will all go a long long way in conditioning their behavior. So obviously relationships of integrity, honesty, authenticity, peace and love are what I want to cultivate in their presence. 

The family I married into is a total bonus when it comes to relational modeling. Sometimes I wish people could see the J.R. I see, not just the public J.R. He is unbelievable with his mother and sister. I think he's grown into this loving capacity over time, as he'll be the first to tell you that he's made some mistakes with family in the past. But now, my God. There's nothing he won't do for his family. He shows up. He spends time. He shows interest. He says kind things and laughs over shared family humor. He gives loving touch. He comes to their aid in times of loss or crisis. He does annoying tasks to help out around the house. He consults their wisdom. He shares his stories with them. It's beautiful. And it's something that I am learning from because I had very little in the way of family or extended family growing up. Our kids will be better for what he brings in the way of family knowledge. I think I offer them incredible resources/tools/experience when it comes to family by choice and relationships with larger community. But J.R. is the expert when it comes to the blood line. I'm so glad we are a team because both are important. I am especially grateful that Aurora and Isaiah will grow up seeing J.R. and Aunt Susan interact with each other. Their sibling relationship inspires me. I hope it inspires my kids too. 

Now, to be concrete about my hope. I hope they love each other fiercely. I hope they find refuge in each other's presence. I hope they come to know their similarities and differences as siblings in ways that make them attentive to the similarities and differences of all people--and that attentiveness makes them appreciative and celebratory of what humans share and the diversity that characterizes our species. I hope they watch each other struggle and mess up and learn compassion, patience, tenderness and forgiveness in those moments. I hope they teach each other how to care deeply and how to let go of what you cannot control. I hope they push each other, hard, to become the best they can be because they have a shared sense of pride about who they are and where/who they come from. I hope they render each other less alone. I do. But more than anything I hope they find in each other's company, a portion of the living God, that can only be manifest in those who call themselves kin.     

I'd really love to hear "how to raise good siblings" advice from those of you out there who have experience to share. Especially you, Lyssa. Something tells me I have a lot to learn from you, big sister extraordinaire.