on siblings love - Essays from the Archive
A husband or a child can be replaced but who can grow me a new brother? (Antigonick, Anne Carson)
I love my siblings even if they’re killing me.
I admit that many times, especially when I was younger and even more dramatic than I am now, I caught myself thinking, “God, I wish I were an only child.” It wasn’t until I spent a few days without my brothers that I truly understood how incomplete and even lonelier I would have felt. I would have grown up differently, perhaps for better, perhaps for worse, but certainly not as I am today. A blend of kindness and stubbornness, patience and temper, lightness of heart and the weight of the mind. Everything they are I am too. I have been shaped by the simple grace of their presence. It’s inexplicable, a love like this, incredible how quickly we turn to hate, whispering insults, only to then share a piece of what we’re eating as if to say: all is forgiven… until it begins again. I find myself unable to move, to leave, I think of how the years slip away so quickly and when we are nothing but ashes what will be left of this brotherly love that’s slowly killing me?
Kindness, patience, blanket forts, the fire of anger, Back to the Future, sweetness summer days, Stephen King’s books, unconditional love, staying up late, rock music, rap music, tears burning my eyes, coca cola, laughters, being sick at the same time, warm wool blankets, carving halloween pumpkins, sleeping till noon, tea at 5 pm, endless family road trips, the whisper of the beach and the sea — our childhood home in flames.
These are the things I visualize when I think of my brothers.
And then childish thoughts: “He’s mom’s favorite” or “Dad loves him more.” But still trying to avoid being competitive (unless we’re playing some game), each with their own passions, different personalities that inevitably intertwine. You don’t choose your family, but you can choose to keep loving them no matter what. A love like this knows no boundaries, hurtful words cast into the wind will soon fade, and all will be forgiven.
We’re adults now but I still need you to check for monsters beneath my bed.
We’re adults now but I still need you to push me on the swing.
And I’ll do the same for you.
And now I thought I would share some books, movies and tv shows that feature my favorite siblings and a couple of songs that always make me think of my brothers.
books —
The Brothers Karamazov / Fyodor Dostoevsky
East of Eden / John Steinbeck
The Dutch House / Ann Patchett
Hamnet / Maggie O’Farrell
Three Summers / Margarita Liberaki
Betty / Tiffany Mcdaniel
Housekeeping / Marilynne Robinson
We Have Always Lived in the Castle / Shirley Jackson
The Chronicles of Narnia / C. S. Lewis
movies —
The Adults / Dustin Guy Defa
The Daytrippers / Greg Mottola
Stuck in Love / Josh Boone
Donnie Darko / Richard Kelly
Marrowbone / Sergio G. Sánchez
The Banshees of Inisherin / Martin McDonagh
East of Eden / Elia Kazan
E.T. The Extraterrestrial / Steven Spielberg
Little Women / Gillian Armstrong — Greta Gerwig
The Royal Tenenbaums / Wes Anderson
tv shows —
The bear / Christopher Storer
Friends / David Crane & Marta Kauffman
The Haunting of Hill House / Mike Flanagan
Supernatural / Eric Kripke
Fleabag / Phoebe Waller-Bridge
This is Us / Dan Fogelman
Charmed / Constance Burge
Over the Garden wall / Patrick McHale
Succession / Jesse Armstrong
this resonates with me as we move into a new season of life where your siblings becomes partners, parents and are creating lives beyond you - life moves slowly until you realize your siblings are no longer teenagers but adults, how bittersweet this feeling tastes :,)
I can't believe all the hurtful things I've forgiven my brother. For the first seven years of my life, I was an only child. His existence is an affront to my entitled self, and I'm a better person for it. Sometimes I think it's what grounds me to this planet and connects me to humanity. His presence in my life has cultivated within me the capacity to relate to other people. Of course I've hurt him countless times, I can't believe he talks to me still. Possibly even likes me. Sees in me something other than a monster. Maybe, maybe even loves me like I love him. I've always wanted to have an older sister. I feel her lack of presence very acutely in my life. She would've made me an even better person, but I've almost become accustomed to what feels like living without one arm, deficient in character and lacking in warmth. The last two years, I've been living together with my brother, and it's probably what has protected my sanity after my separation. Sometimes I think that men aren't supposed to live on their own, they turn into ugly creatures. Perhaps men were always meant to live together.