One of my kids lives crammed up against a coastline, breathing in that sweet, sweet ocean air all by herself. She has her own bank account and her own credit card. She buys clothes I've never even seen. She volunteers on the weekends walking strange dogs around an unknown building in a state I hardly know. She has a job that is so serious she can't even talk about it and knows stuff that she has to tuck into a special part of her brain, all taped over with red TOP SECRET tape. The only person who could have understood that part of her life was her Dad and he missed that, and she knows it and I know it so we don't talk about it at all. We Skype and we message and send stupid links to each other on Facebook, but most of the hours in her days are not my hours any more.
Another kid isn't even in the country, and when I manage to catch her on her way from one thing or another, it's evening for her when I'm still gearing up to contemplate brunch. She takes classes in subjects I know nothing about and spends her nights having erudite discussions using terminology I've never even heard. On Christmas Eve she listened to a sermon in an ancient cathedral and participated in an old ritual that is entirely new to her. On New Years she lit a torch and, with hundreds of other lit torches, she walked through the city, HER city, the city she has made her own by walking its streets, step by step learning it until it lives in her heart. I didn't see her light up the night sky. I didn't walk with her, and see our breath cloud out in front of us when we laughed. I didn't watch her do it on all on her own with those hundreds of other people and, seeing another woman also alone in the crowd and a little sad on New Year's Eve, hand over her extra torch to light up someone else's sky as well.
And now my other kid, my last kid whom I had the great privilege of getting to know all on his own the last year or so (sorry girls - it's the one compensation for being the youngest. Think of it as payback for all the times you made his Bionicle's play pony games and have tea parties) - THAT kid is planning on moving out on his own. Which is good. It's right. It's what he needs to do. And I wish to all hell I didn't feel guilty about it, especially about him being in THIS city, THIS place that none of us really like and that is painted over with our days and months and years of being unhappy. But he assures me that he'll be fine because he has his personal freedom, the thing he can hop on and throw all that miserable city crap, and his job with its horrible hours, and all the other things that pile up and hem you in behind him. He hangs his happiness on two wheels, and I've seen him come back from a ride to the mountains so sometimes, sometimes I almost believe him.
I was just talking about families with my friends the other night and I just realized that we're all growing up far away from each other-at the same time. I love that we are all so close in age, it meant that we developed pretty much at the same time-together. Now we are all changing so much far from my eyes. It would make me sad, but then I think, "Damn I can't WAIT to meet my siblings all over again."
Posted by: Lally | 01/23/2012 at 04:34 AM
I have a twin who I hardly recognise anymore. I remember the lad as a 13 year old barely getting by as a teenager, my 16 year old nemesis, my 20 year old best friend. Now he, the gamer and the computer expert, is en route to the Navy or the Air Force. He was the one of us that we never expected to join the military, and yet when he speaks about it, he shines. I remember the look he gave me just before he left for basic training (coincidently, this was just prior to my exodus), it was a look that said clearly and resolutely 'I want this'. I remember the first time I felt that spark when I was decisively going to France for the first time. The realisation of that want, that desire, was so bloody simple! And yet, realising what you truly want is a difficult thing to grasp. Now I barely know the guy, but I am so excited to meet him. Now that we are both 22 it seems like the past lifetime spent together was just that : another lifetime. He is on his way, and I am so happy for him.
Then there is my older brother who I never really knew until I was 17. This was directly after a two week trip to France, Austria, Germany and Switzerland that veritably changed my life - and was the catalyst for my cynicism to develop, incidentally. Throughout my childhood, he was always off limits. Younger siblings are often a trial, but younger twins, we absorbed and feasted on attention! So, we were never close. However, Once I began to grow up and develop, he was there waiting for me. It was he who threw me a graduation party, he who bought me my first drink, he who consoled me and kept me strong whilst dealing with what happened between my father and I. My older brother, over the course of a few short years, became absolutely everything to me - and I to him. He attempted university in New Mexico but did not finish his degree. He was engaged once, his heart broken once, and went to a place within himself that scared me more than I can say. But as he was always there for me, I was there for him. Soon he decided that his life needed a new direction and the question of what he 'wanted' took centre stage.
He has since married the woman of his dreams with whom he may or may not have fraternised after basic training. She is a fellow trumpeter and a firy force of a redhead! She kicks him just the right way to keep him going and he brings her down to earth so she can enjoy it. She is lovely and I could never imagine a better outcome to his story. Long story short, they are both now in Japan and will be for a few more years. They will live the life of the military couple, travel and explore before raising the most magnificent children. I hope to raise my own children with his one of these days.
It is at this moment that the tragedy comes into sight. These people who I consider my closest links to humanity are 1/3 of the way around the world from me in both directions. I love these two more than can be said, but the time that we will inevitably spend together will never be enough. We have grown, we have changed, and we are incredibly different people. My only hope is that we will be given another opportunity to be together and grow once again.
Posted by: Mac | 01/23/2012 at 07:14 AM
Beautiful - both of you.
Posted by: Megan | 01/23/2012 at 07:30 AM
Megan, I love the way you write.
I have three kids out, too. It is hard not to try to keep butting into their lives. Not that they let me--they are nice to me, but they have good boundaries, darnit.
The house echoes, but at least I have some more still here.
Posted by: Lori | 01/24/2012 at 08:15 PM
MMMMM! Smell that delicious Sea Air! And that delicious Sea Food! mmmmm.....scallops....
Posted by: Overstretched Frog | 02/09/2012 at 10:02 PM