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Not My Sister's Keeper – 1

I was three years old when Miri, was born.   I had a doll her size  and for some time assumed Miri was my Mommy’s dolly.

Over the decades, I have gone back and forth over my childhood, trying to see if I ‘felt’ any decline in concern or affection from my parents at Miri’s birth, and I didn’t.  I was  Ruthie,  and Miri was Miri.   Maybe it was the age difference, maybe interests, but I never felt ‘supplanted’ by Miri.  

When I look back,  I admit, my sister and I were never close.

At first, it was the age difference.  

Imagine an active five year old going to school, meeting new people, having new ideas, involved in all sorts of activities, and a two year old, clinging to her mother.

As the years passed, it was not only age.  I continued to be active, adding politics and social events to my repertoire, she continued to stay home with Mommy.  

We lived life differently.

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Written by jaylar

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