Heidi Strack shares what it’s like to grow up in a large family.
I always think about what it would be like to be an only child. A quiet, cozy home with all the attention on you. No one to talk to other than your parents. No built-in best friend to be by your side, and no clothes to borrow. No fights about small things that feel like the biggest deal ever, only to say “I’m sorry,” soon after.
I have six siblings. The age gap from the youngest to the oldest is 17 years. I am not the middle child, not the first born and not the baby of the family either. I am second to the middle, and the second to the youngest. I am too young to do things with my oldest sisters, but am sick of being stuck with the little kids.
I’m always at the “kids table” at dinners even though I listen to the parents talk, waiting for the day when I could be a part of those conversations too. When my sister, two up from me, left for college, it felt like a piece of the puzzle was removed and thrown away. I lost a best friend, and was heartbroken. I cried for many days.
I wanted to tell her how I felt, but something in me made me think I shouldn’t. My fear was texting her, thinking she wouldn’t respond feeling the same I did. She wouldn’t care about leaving as much as I cared about missing her. My family is thinning fast; my next sister is growing up too. She’s a junior in high school, coming on senior.