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Writer's pictureJoe Bell (USA)

Being a Friend. My Sister, A Best Friend.

Updated: Dec 27, 2023

Young girl holding out spoon to lick for her younger brother.
Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.

Through retelling some of my experiences, I hope you will be reminded or recall some of your friends and life-shaping friendships and their value in your life. Friends are critical to our life-long development and how we grow to relate within and as a community. Friends may have been few or many, and in their recall, we can rediscover lessons and experiences we can now recognize as life-enhancing and essential to our growth and well-being. 



When you read the first installment about my friends during my childhood years, and as you’d expect for a boy, no girls were mentioned.  So, where are the girls in the story?  



Be assured, they were there. And they were very important to me and my life. In my family of five, I am the only boy and the middle child between two sisters. One is three years older, and the other seven years younger. I was very close to and very similar to my older sister. We think alike and have similar interests and tastes; in our younger years, we had several similar features. And there’s a reason for that.



A psychotherapist once told her she was like a second mother to me. As if having two sisters and being the middle child wasn’t tough enough, I had “two mothers”!  So, believe me, I was not wanting for women in my life.



For reasons she and her counselor discovered, my older sister felt a need to be competitive with my mother at an early age. So, she chose to be my other mom when I came along. When she started school, I was around three. Every day, she’d come home from school, sit me down, and proceed to teach me everything she had learned that day. And it wasn’t a cute phase. She was very determined to do this daily until I started school myself. Consequently, I was three years ahead of everyone. And in those early school years, being “smart” was a respected trait and made me popular. So I got lots of attention and awe.  I loved that.  It made me confident and scholarly, and subsequently, I was elected to leadership positions. And this carried into and through high school and college.  



I have my older sister to thank for that. And she remained my confidant and mentor throughout life. She was my sister and a best friend. And her early death while she was still in her “early retirement years” left a big hole in my life. Her husband didn’t like to travel like she and I did. So, we were planning on being frequent travel companions when I retired. And I lost that person and that future. At the time, drawing on friends again, I told those friends I needed to reinvent myself, make more friends, and deepen those relationships to fill that void when I retired. And those friends came through. But there will be more on that in a later installment.



Another thing that grew out of being close to my older sister is we had birthdays only five days apart. So, our parents generally held two birthday parties simultaneously, often in adjoining rooms. We had separate cakes, gifts, and friends. But I always knew her friends and vice versa. I became confident and socially comfortable around girls, including those older, at an early age. Believe me, that later became helpful. As I entered high school, the teachers and older girls knew who I was and always said “hello.” That did not go unnoticed and certainly gave me more popularity and credibility. Elections to leadership positions continued.


Four young children smiling, laughing around an open box with a birthday cake.
Picture by Thirdman on Pexels.

As I entered my teens, my dad told me that if I never got on a motorcycle, he would buy me a car when I turned 16. I didn’t. He did. Of course, he didn’t specify what car. I ended up driving a dark green, not air-conditioned, no radio, Studebaker Lark. But any guy will tell you never to discount the power of having “wheels.” 



I started a carpool service to school, charged 50 cents a week, which paid me enough for gas for the week and weekend. During “gas wars,” you could pay as little as 15 cents per gallon.  Two very popular girls joined my carpool. I did not want for girlfriends in high school. Or guy friends, either. I had my pick of popular guy friends who wanted to double-date with me.



After the first six weeks of college, my older sister came home for Thanksgiving, again sat me down, and told me she would teach me to drink Scotch whiskey. And that I had to master it before we went to the round of upcoming parties during Christmas break. Having grown to know her friends, I ran with an older crowd, so don’t judge me. And, of course, it was cool!



I told her Scotch tasted terrible and asked why I had to master it. She said it’s cool and sophisticated.  Most others didn’t like it, so you didn’t have to share it.  And you could drink it with water on the rocks, making drinking less easier. Plus, its taste usually means you sipped it and didn’t have to spend so much on it. And it was unusual to end up drinking too much. She was right. I learned to drink it with water, sip it, not have to share, and not drink too much.  



It became my “go-to” drink from then on.  That lasted well into my twenties when I finally got drunk on it twice, once with a law school buddy and fraternity brother and another with my graduate school friends. They took care of me.  But there’s nothing like getting sick on Scotch!  Both times made me stop drinking both Scotch and any other alcohol for six months. Ultimately, I turned to vodka martinis. At the time, they were almost as unpopular as Scotch but much easier to drink. That’s when I learned how to pace myself. I usually sipped a glass of water between them, but I tipped the bartender so he would properly take care of me. Ultimately, my older sister taught me how not to become an alcoholic. I’m fairly into OCD (obsessive-compulsive) and easily “addicted” to habits. Otherwise, I’d be a candidate for AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) by now.



My older sister also ensured that I had girlfriends to look after me as I grew old. But that’s a story for a subsequent installment.



I hope your high school and teen years were filled with either an over-abundance of friends or at least one or two BFFs, best friends for life, for the uninitiated. Teen years and high school are tough enough, friends are a lifesaver figuratively and literally. Did you come out of high school with at least one lifelong friend?  Think back. Maybe it’s time to make a long, put-off phone call. You never know what your life may be missing.


 

This story was originally published on April 14, 2022.


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