Ode to Ash

Being around K's kids resurrect memories from the recesses of my mind about my own childhood. I see a sibling loyalty between them that reminds me of a story my father often recounts about Ashley and me.

As kids I would hardly call us friends. We were reluctant playmates, forced together when our "real" friends couldn't come outside. Despite our aversion for each other's company when push came to shove, hanging out together was better than being alone. As such, many afternoons were spent creating an imaginary world with our little animal families, playing boardgames and swimming together. As long as we didn't covet the same toy or suspect the other of cheating we were mostly on easy street. But being somewhat close in age and having personalities as different as oil and water meant that sometimes we got into arguments... epic arguments.

We didn't grow up around violence so neither of us would resort to physical fighting but the yelling and screaming would make the neighbors think we were killing one another. The fights always ended in tears (me) and tattling (Ash). As my dad tells it, this is how it would go down.

I would do something to piss Ashley off. She would start yelling at me in her fiery, agro way. I would taunt and provoke her in my subtle, evil way and she would grow louder and louder. My dad would bum rush the room to yell at us both. Ashley would launch into a rather compelling argument about how I was ruining her life and she hated me. My dad would buy the story and lay into me with a verbal tirade of his own. Ashley would watch my dad yelling at me about sharing or caring or generally being a nicer sister and I would start crying and apologizing. Then my punishment would ensue, something like being sent to my room, having a toy taken away, getting grounded- whatever. As Ash watched the discipline being dolled out, something would shift in her and just like that my dad was being scolded for yelling at me. Ashley would come to my rescue, rescinding her earlier complaints about my selfish, evil character and reprimanding my dad for coming down so hard on me. I was eight, she was five.

I don't know what would happen in Ashley's head that would prompt her to defend me, to shield me from my dad's discipline. Maybe she realized she'd be playing alone if I was sent to my room. Maybe she thought my father was being too harsh. Whatever the reason, hearing this as an adult makes my heart fill up with love for my little sister. There is something so special and untouchable about the bond between siblings. It makes me grateful K's kids have each other- grateful I have Ash.