I am three days late in wishing my youngest siblings a very Happy Birthday! Well, maybe not a "very" Happy Birthday as recognizing Emily and Daniel are now 18 years old means recognizing I'm that much older, too.
The large difference in age had never been more obvious until last Spring, when I spent some time in Portland. I left my parents house over a decade ago and rarely looked back; resulting in the tragic and unfair last real images I have of these two: hand-in-hand, walking to school one morning (most likely the first grade).
I watched them grow up via annual school photographs and by noting how their handwriting improved on my birthday cards. At times, I'm sad that I missed so much of their young lives, but I don't know how it could have been avoided; there is nearly 11 years between us. The year I got my first tattoo, they were learning how to tie their shoes. While I was hitchhiking in Istanbul, they were reading their first chapter book. My last year of college was their last year of elementary school.
They are staring down some life-altering decisions right now, for reasons I care not to mention here. I can't help but think of them as small, obscure children and not capable, intriguing adults they have become. But, I'll try.
The large difference in age had never been more obvious until last Spring, when I spent some time in Portland. I left my parents house over a decade ago and rarely looked back; resulting in the tragic and unfair last real images I have of these two: hand-in-hand, walking to school one morning (most likely the first grade).
I watched them grow up via annual school photographs and by noting how their handwriting improved on my birthday cards. At times, I'm sad that I missed so much of their young lives, but I don't know how it could have been avoided; there is nearly 11 years between us. The year I got my first tattoo, they were learning how to tie their shoes. While I was hitchhiking in Istanbul, they were reading their first chapter book. My last year of college was their last year of elementary school.
They are staring down some life-altering decisions right now, for reasons I care not to mention here. I can't help but think of them as small, obscure children and not capable, intriguing adults they have become. But, I'll try.
1 comments:
it's hard to accept they don't need their big sisters for EVERYTHING. it's not fair the babies aren't babies anymore.
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