Today is my baby sister's birthday. I never seem to remember in time to send a card that isn't from the "belated" section. In fact, I sadly don't think about my baby sister very often. We live such differing lives.

She is my baby sister, though...to be distinquished from my other younger sister, because this one I can clearly remember actually being born.

It was August 1969, a month after the first lunar landing...one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. I sat glued to the old black & white TV that July, watching history being made. August 30, 1969 was picture day at our school, which had obviously been in session for about two weeks prior. (Ironically enough, yesterday was picture day at KayKay's school). How do I know this? Because my mom went into labor in the wee hours of the morning on August 30, leaving my grandmother (my father's mom) to dress my younger sister and I and get us off to school. My 3rd grade picture is a tribute to that day. I'm wearing a light green dress (my kindergarten sister in a matching frock -- THANKS MOM!) But my hair is pulled back uncharacteristically in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. My mom hated this picture because it was not the way she would have styled my hair had she been there. But...there was a baby on the way.

I loved my baby sister, because at age 8 it was tons of fun to help out in her care. And she was a cutie! She looked a great deal like me, only cuter, because she was so blasted precocious (and I was so blasted shy). And with two older sisters, she was highly indulged.

When I was 16, and baby sis was 8, she was like my mascot...trailing along wherever my newly-obtained driver's license would take me. Even though I tried not to show it, it was actually kind of fun having this little tag-along with me everywhere I went.

I headed off to college and things drastically changed. I wasn't at home during the critical years of her puberty, so I was totally baffled (and a bit self-absorbed as college students tend to be)over what was happening with my baby sis. She was changing...and not necessarily for the better.

She had become very defiant of my parents, very moody, very sneaky in her behaviors, and very unhappy. Sometimes she would sleep all the time; sometimes stay out all night. I would ask for reports from my other sister who was still at home as to what was going on and why...but she couldn't explain it either.

None of us could. Meanwhile, my parents beat themselves up royally, even as they tried to tighten the reins on baby sis. No one could explain why her behaviors differed so radically from what we had believed she would be and from the rest of the family. Why isn't she more like the rest of us? -- the question on everyone's minds.

But from my perspective, baby sis was religated to my periphery. Not necessarily because of her problems, but because of my own life. I was graduating from college, starting a career, getting married. I wasn't thinking much about baby sis.

But she was up to plenty. Pregnancy, marriage, divorce, alcohol rehab, signing guardianship over to my parents, drug rehab, homelessness...her path was drastically different than mine. And the effects were felt by us all. Everyone in the family was baffled, confused, angry, ashamed...including baby sis. Or maybe I should say especially baby sis.

It was just a mere 5 years ago that a doctor finally said...Bipolar! I felt a bit foolish for not adding it up myself sooner. But like I said, my contact with baby sis has been pretty limited and geography of several hundred of miles (along with her changing residences fairly frequently) contributed to that.

It was so classic...bipolar usually immerges during adolescence. And once we had a name for what was going on, we could see the genetic connection. My grandfather had bipolar (used to be called manic/depression) too, although no one ever diagnosed him as such. It explained why my mother would always draw parallels between my sister and my grandfather...even from the time she was little.

While it was nice to have "an answer" to the mystery of what happened to baby sis, I can't help but wonder if it answers everything.

Baby sis is doing better now. She's on medications, holding down a job, and last I heard has a new boyfriend. I saw her in April at our grandmother's funeral. And I was delighted that she agreed on the spur of the moment to join my other sister and me in eulogizing our grandmother. I'm thinking that took a lot of courage on her part.

But I'm still puzzled by much where my baby sis is concerned. The line between what is the effect of a psychiatric disorder and what is personal lifestyle choices can be so blurry. My niece, her daughter, is a junior in high school now. Since she was an infant, she has not lived with my sister. They have little contact. There has been little attempt on my sister's part and is now little interest on my niece's part. Yet my niece, who lives with her biological father and stepmother, visits my mother (her grandma) nearly weekly and comes to all major family gatherings. Baby sis usually does not. My sister's estangement from her own daughter is probably the most distressing and puzzling issue that remains unresolved to me. Is it because of the bipolar disorder?

I know others who have bipolar, including a very successful mom of two of my daughter's friends. I would have never known she had any issue at all (except for a high energy level at times) had she not told me about her own struggles. Yet, her family remains in tact and her children seem healthy and happy.

So the purpose of this blog was not only to share that my sister has bipolar disorder and that all psychiatric disorders have profound effects on a person's life and relationships. This is truly intended as happy birthday wishes for my sister. I'm not sure she'll ever read this, as I'm not sure she has a clue I am writing a blog. But the bottom line is being someone's sister is a irrevocable position. And our shared memories outweight lots of other issues. I do hope her 37th birthday is a happy one and that she continues to overcome the challenges of living with bipolar. Sorting out what is a disorder and what are poor life choices seems an impossible task at this point. So, here's to healing broken relationships as well! Something we all need to do.