"My Sister, Our Switzerland"

Every family needs a Switzerland. Right? The one who stays neutral. The one who mediates between warring, familial factions. The one who is emotionally invested in family peace and harmony.

 

My sister, Barbara, plays that role in our family and she plays it well. I often refer to her as the “glue that holds our family together.” Maybe we should refer to her as “Elmer.” (Dad joke. Sorry. It’s who I am.)

Barbara was born in 1946 and is the eldest of the Munson kids. She is the only sibling that was alive and present to welcome her four brothers into the world. Maybe that is why she takes ownership of this task. I know that my eldest daughter, Maelynne, functions similarly with her four siblings.

Being almost 13 years my senior, Barb was already in her late teens by the time I was 4 or 5 years old... the age that typically represents one’s earliest memories. I was very attached to her. My view of her was more as a second mom than it was a sibling. She loved me, nurtured me, protected me and cared for me for as long as I can remember.

Barb got married in 1964, at the age of 18. I was the ring bearer in her wedding. That was fun but I was too young to process how that would affect our home-life and our family dynamic.

Although she initially lived local, I missed her tremendously. The emotional pain of separation from her was palpable, and I yearned for her visits.

Very early in their marriage, her husband entered the military. This was during the Vietnam Nam War era. They were stationed in North Carolina for a bit and then in Munich, West Germany. And so the geographical separation became much greater and rendered impossible any sort of actual visit.

This seems somewhat humorous and extremely odd now, but I remember a ritual we had while Barb

was in Germany. At a predetermined day and time, we would go outside, face the east and start waving. Barb would do the same from Munich, while facing west.

Um, yeah… we were waving to each other… LA to Munich… separated by the width of the United States, the Atlantic Ocean, most of Europe and nearly 6,000 miles. Somehow, it gave me a small sense of comfort and I remember insisting that my mom set up the next “wave.”

Man… what did our neighbors think? “There go the Munsons again… waving at… God knows what!”

My dad passed away in 1969, about five years into Barb’s marriage. Mom and I packed our belongings and moved to Iowa a few months later. My birthplace and my mom’s lifelong homeland other than the 10 years of living in Southern California. And once again, I was separated from my big sister.

Nobody likes divorce, but that is how Barb’s marriage ended up. There was a lot of pain and sorrow associated with the dissolved marriage, as one would expect. Barb needed the comfort of family and distance from the painful reminders of a relationship lost, so she moved back home, to Iowa.

I didn’t like the circumstances that brought about the move, but I was thrilled to have my big sister with me once again. She immediately filled a void in my life as I was still feeling the emotional effects of losing my dad and dealing with a sense of detachment from my mom, who had now entered the dating scene.

I remember spilling my guts to her about my sense of loneliness and isolation. I told her that mom hadn’t even acknowledged my 11^th birthday, 6 months after we had moved to Iowa. This seemed to have really moved her and the next week, she bought me a birthday card and a present for that birthday that had long since passed.

Eventually, Barb began to date a guy that she had gone to school with prior to our move to California in 1959. He was a good guy. I approved. They would frequently go out to dinner and a movie in Des Moines and more times than not… Barb would insist that I tag along. I didn’t think about it much then but in the years after, I wondered if it ever irritated her boyfriend to accept this package deal on their dates. Surely he hated it… right?

After my mom remarried, the storms of life intensified for me with all of the neglect, drinking and fighting that carried on in our house. Barb and her apartment became a safe harbor for me, and I spent a lot of days and nights with her. She always had a sympathetic ear and a calming voice for a young guy in turmoil.

After Barb broke it off with her boyfriend, she caught the eye of another local who would sweep her off her feet and would treat her like a queen. She married Steve Burich in 1972 and our entire family fell in love with the guy. (They recently celebrated their 47^th wedding anniversary.)

One of the things that Steve learned and embraced from day one, was

that Barb would do anything in her power to protect, to defend, to help and to love her brothers. This dynamic would irritate and overwhelm a lesser man… but Steve Burich was nothing close to being a “lesser man.” He adopted the same philosophy as his bride and thus became a beloved member of the family. If any outsider had a notion to insult Steve, they had better expect to fight any or all of the Munson brothers. (But you could never really find anyone who would have a bad word to say about him).

I always loved sports and would play them all as I went through school. Barb would be at all my

games. She was the only family member to do so. It may seem like a little thing but that left a huge impression on me.

I moved back out to California as a 16 year old, in 1975.  I got married in 1980. Barb and Steve flew out to be in the wedding. For our wedding present, they bought us plane tickets to Iowa and let us stay at their house while they remained in California. (I know, I know… honeymoon in small town Iowa???? That’s a story for another time.)

As an adult with a wife and children… trudging through the life of responsibilities and obligations, I still shared a special relationship with my sister. My young family loved driving to Iowa for vacations because of Barb and Steve. They loved our kids and would do everything they could to show them a good time.

On the last day of one of those vacations to Iowa in 1993, Barb and Steve took us for a short drive to look at several new housing tracts in a Des Moines suburb. They thought that it might entice us to move our family to Iowa, LOL.

I’m sure! What a ridiculous scheme. We had no intentions to ever move to Iowa.

In December of 1993, we moved to Iowa. Barb was soooooooooooooo happy! (So were we!)

My four daughters were all pretty good athletes and played volleyball, basketball and softball… all over the state of Iowa in the 14 years we lived in Iowa. Barb and Steve were regulars to those sporting events. Nothing shocking about that.

 

The story doesn’t end there. I could go on about our move to Ohio in 2008 and all of the continued visits with my sister… but, you get the idea. We share a special bond. And as we enter into the golden years of life, it’s good to let special people know how you feel about them and what they have meant to you for all of these years.

Life is a journey and we face a multitude of challenges along the way. I thank God that he gifted me with such a special sister, that so often became my bridge over troubled waters. I hope you all have someone in your life like this. I love my sister dearly.