Skip to content

Only the lonely

November 4, 2007

Sweet screeching and racing and laughter and pretending and thump, thump, thump. You be wolf-girl he says as she races around the kitchen floor on all fours, growling at him and bringing him things with her teeth. Follow me he shouts and she obeys. She yells, you say, “hey wolfgirl, turn back into a regular girl!” and he obliges. Her take this and lets go save our hedgehogs. Hurry, lets run and hide under the table. One races by and kisses my shoulder while I study for my exam. The other looks up to me and says, “I love you mama!” and scurries off yelling at the other to get the kittens, they have to be saved from the fire and get them out of the tree. NO! shouts the other, lets play hockey with that bowl. It is two points when it bounces in your goal. HEY! Good job sister. You did it brother! hahahahahahahahahaha. Stop it, stop it. HEY. Cut it out. She hit me. Well, he did it first. OKAY, lets go and play again. Okay. One turn. The other turn. Cheers. Screeching. The rules keep changing as they keep playing.

It is about 10am on the morning of daylight savings time and I remember being 5 and wondering when my mom would get up and keep me company. Maybe 11am, maybe noon. I would make breakfast of cereal and chocolate milk and watch TV and play with my cat and dollhouse. Alone. I talk to myself and make imaginary worlds full of people doing various things. I play school. I am the teacher and the student. I play house and I am the mother, father and baby. I never pretend to have siblings because I don’t know what that is like. I ask for a brother for xmas every year for about 9 years. Finally after 12 years I get one-a little brother and am delighted but I am too big to play with a sibling so tiny and I don’t live with him anyway. It is not the same. I miss out on sharing, fighting, conspiring, stealing, jealousy and camaraderie.

When my mother dies I am alone in my grief as it is not the same to loose a friend, sister or former wife. No one can identify. No one looks at me knowing how much of their past was just eliminated too. How much of what you were and how you became what you are has vanished.

I drift back and hear their laughter again and cheers for each other. Cough, sniffle and screech of maniacal laughter as they goad each other on in their craziness. They conspire together to get more Halloween candy although it is just past breakfast and I have sworn all good things forbidden to Chica for being so horrible last night. Brother comforts her and says he won’t have any candy until she can have some unless mama says I can. He suggests maybe if she is a good sleeper tonight and doesn’t constantly call out to mama she could have candy again. He asks her if they are still going camping and she says yes and they need their spy glasses. They assemble their provisions and camp out in the wilderness of the playroom while I study for my exam.

Advertisements
3 Comments leave one →
  1. November 5, 2007 12:14 am

    Made me feel very wistful.

  2. November 5, 2007 5:10 am

    Siblings are the best, at least from my perspective (bear in mind that I don’t have one).

    As a kid, I always wanted a sister, and as my mother was dying, I often longed for the companionship of a sibling.

    Watching The Girl and The Boy together makes me profoundly happy. They bicker, of course, as do all siblings, but for the most part, they are buddies. Honestly, their relationship has far surpassed my expectations.

    XOXO
    L

  3. joefelso permalink
    November 12, 2007 12:07 am

    What good kids you have—so sweet and tender with each other. Mine are just getting to this state…and they’re teenagers!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: