No Two Kids Have The Same Parents
One gets praise, the admiration. The first tests of the trials of parenthood - the cries, the long nights, the real time put in. The focus on first moments and the results of having time. They get to see their parents young, lively and hopeful for new moments.
The second, gets the hand me downs, no first choice in anything they do, the follow the leader of the first sibling and what they have to live up to. They get the results of being a shadow.
The third comes along, the praise for a new gender. They get treated separately for having interests pushed on them. The second stays cast with hand me downs and less choices as they are no longer the youngest. The third is the baby until they are pushed forward and must live up to the hype of the ones before them.
The fourth and last comes. The one to be able to obtain perfection from the mistakes of the ones before them. They get the last of old things but everything new that wasn't 10, 15 years before. They see their parents as older, but more gentle and more wise. They get to learn from them but the parents believe in knowing everything now. Determining now that sheltered and no consequences leads to a better childhood.
Yet, with the darkest shadow, different than the others, less of a new moment with their parents - the second are the ones to care the most.
The one that put in time, effort and specifics into their mothers wake. The one that took the long months to plan - invitations, decorations, food for all the others. They sit there watching others have a good time while they haven't had a thought or moment to grieve. And less of good moments to grieve the mother in the first place. The one with the hardest outlook on life because they got to raise the younger ones after them. The one that watched the others while the first got to have experiences of a time of a teen. The last one who got everything they asked for, and the first boy who got experiences with a father the second always strived for.
It took 4 months to plan my mothers wake. Invitations to 30 people, help with their travel plans, a headcount for food and anything dietary that concerned them. Bought the urn by myself, picked colors and schemes for the wake, made sure of music and decor everywhere as she wanted everything colorful.
And here I am, 4 months later. Just defining what it's like to lose somebody that I struggled connecting with my entire life. Living with the other person I so directly wanted a connection with. And yet, I am still the next notch down on the post. I am the last to know something, the first they ask to cook and the last one some one thinks of giving a break to.
She told me to take care of them, because I was the one that could. But I don't know if I have much strength or will left to do it.
Thanks for reading as always.
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
andulkaphoto
dededos
vaporwave
