The Memory Keeper
A conversation between my brothers on Facebook sparked a memory --
When my youngest brother was small, maybe 4 or 5, he went through a movie obsession where he watched Home Alone multiple times a day for weeks. At that time, we had some VHS of Home Alone that had been taped off of the television, and the same cassette also had Kindergarten Cop, and the label on the tape had "Home Alone Kindergarten Cop" written on it.
And even though he only watched Home Alone, Jacob always called it "Home Alone Kindergarten Cop" like it was one movie. And it was charming and adorable, and he was charming and adorable, and he still is.
***
It's funny to be the oldest, isn't it, the keeper of memories. I'm the one who remembers when the others (with the exception of Jim) were born, where I was -- eating a Happy Meal in the hospital room, or waiting at Grandmama and Granddaddy's. I remember the quirks, the misspoken names of things -- the "sadpoles" in the baby pool, the "ambliances" that would hurry past, sirens wailing, followed by police who would put the bad men in "hand coffees."
I taught my siblings how to pump their legs on the swings, how to ride bikes. I would ride in the car with Jacob when he had his learner's permit. Almost everything important in life, I either learned with or taught to them. I changed diapers, especially with Jessie. I gave baths. Since their beginnings, I've been there. Their beginnings were my beginnings.
***
The last phrase there is one I've linked, to the essay where I first got it. I think that essay is the reason I've been reminiscing about siblings this week. Because it's true. Their lives have given shape and structure, purpose to my life. The years between us continue to flatten out, and the age differences feel less real. Siblings are the ones who are there to stick life out with you -- even after your parents are gone, your siblings keep you tethered in a way I imagine even your spouses and children can't. Our shared memories bind us in like strands of silk in a mysterious web.
***
My entire life, my mother and her sisters have called each other "Sis." Casual, tossed out like nothing -- "Here you go, Sis," "What do you need, Sis?" and so on.
Lately, my brothers have picked it up too.
"Here you go, Sis."
"What do you need, Sis?"
You, my darling boys, my one darling girl. I have always, and sometimes only, needed you.
When my youngest brother was small, maybe 4 or 5, he went through a movie obsession where he watched Home Alone multiple times a day for weeks. At that time, we had some VHS of Home Alone that had been taped off of the television, and the same cassette also had Kindergarten Cop, and the label on the tape had "Home Alone Kindergarten Cop" written on it.
And even though he only watched Home Alone, Jacob always called it "Home Alone Kindergarten Cop" like it was one movie. And it was charming and adorable, and he was charming and adorable, and he still is.
***
It's funny to be the oldest, isn't it, the keeper of memories. I'm the one who remembers when the others (with the exception of Jim) were born, where I was -- eating a Happy Meal in the hospital room, or waiting at Grandmama and Granddaddy's. I remember the quirks, the misspoken names of things -- the "sadpoles" in the baby pool, the "ambliances" that would hurry past, sirens wailing, followed by police who would put the bad men in "hand coffees."
I taught my siblings how to pump their legs on the swings, how to ride bikes. I would ride in the car with Jacob when he had his learner's permit. Almost everything important in life, I either learned with or taught to them. I changed diapers, especially with Jessie. I gave baths. Since their beginnings, I've been there. Their beginnings were my beginnings.
***
The last phrase there is one I've linked, to the essay where I first got it. I think that essay is the reason I've been reminiscing about siblings this week. Because it's true. Their lives have given shape and structure, purpose to my life. The years between us continue to flatten out, and the age differences feel less real. Siblings are the ones who are there to stick life out with you -- even after your parents are gone, your siblings keep you tethered in a way I imagine even your spouses and children can't. Our shared memories bind us in like strands of silk in a mysterious web.
***
My entire life, my mother and her sisters have called each other "Sis." Casual, tossed out like nothing -- "Here you go, Sis," "What do you need, Sis?" and so on.
Lately, my brothers have picked it up too.
"Here you go, Sis."
"What do you need, Sis?"
You, my darling boys, my one darling girl. I have always, and sometimes only, needed you.
posted by Another Chance to Get It Right at
11:15 PM
2 Comments:
So well put. It was The Lion King with Miriam and 101 Dalmatians with Rachel. And oh my goodness, the diapers... Rachel wasn't big enough to reach the changing table, so when I remember Miriam's, I'm grateful there were only three years between Rachel and me.
And of course I commented on -- seemingly -- the most insignificant parts. I don't know what I'd do without my sisters.
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