I’m the oldest of four children. I wanted to do the Self Portrait Challenge this week on my siblings. Digging around for photos has revealed several important facts:
- I don’t have nearly enough photos, particularly of my childhood. I’m sure a few of my baby brother, WHEN he was a baby/little kid are hiding in my photo boxes, but they’re not scanned yet. Need. More.
- I also don’t have any current (or even current-ish) photos of just us, all of us together. Terrible.
- I miss them.
- Take plenty of photos of relationships — like brothers and sisters.
- Get my hands on some negatives from my childhood and scan them.
- We need to get together again soon (easier said than done when you live thousands of miles from each other, all in different directions) AND take some photos.
If you live near your sibs? Appreciate it, okay?
(Taken May 2005) This is my brother, barely two years younger than me. He makes me laugh like no one else. (And when we were kids, he made me mad like no one else. No doubt I sometimes returned the favor.) We were each other’s playmates when we were little. Almost all my early childhood memories include him. My husband and I would really like to live on the same street as him (also my other sibs, I must add).
(Taken July 2005) My seeeeeester, as we call each other. We’ve recently instituted a weekly (or biweekly occasionally) phone call, which makes me so happy. She’s at college right now, with all the fun and drama that that entails. I’m so proud of her for how she’s handling herself. She’s had to deal with a lot in her not so long life. I’m so proud and glad to be her sister.
(Taken July 2003 – I have several more recent photos but I really like this one. And in it he’s not yet THAT much taller than me. The oldest and yet the shortest: it’s hard not to be bitter…) My baby brother. He was only five when I went away to college. Once when I was back home on break he asked me, “When are you coming to live with us again?” How could I explain never?
He will always in some ways be about five years old in my mind. He’s the baby I really remember. Sometimes I even call my son by his name (and my daughter by my sister’s, cuz hey, the little girl older than the baby, right?).
In 2001 my parents divorced. Lots that could be said about that, and these sorts of things are never simple, of course. But the kid in me (and I was 21, but still) has a simple view of it: it sucks.
But the increased bond with my siblings — that’s the silver lining.