The past
My brother loved making chocolate chip cookies with mom on Sunday afternoons.
My sister preferred eating ones of the oatmeal raisin variety.
Many of their wounds, figurative and literal, self-inflicted and lashing out at the other, were healed over a plate of mixed cookies.
My sister used to swing on the ol' tire swing for hours.
My brother preferred to keep track of things in either minutes or portions of days.
And yet, that swing became a symbol, albeit a moldy and decrepit symbol, for the bond they shared.
My brother attempted to build historically accurate forts out of the couch cushions.
My sister used to swing on the ol' tire swing for hours.
My brother preferred to keep track of things in either minutes or portions of days.
And yet, that swing became a symbol, albeit a moldy and decrepit symbol, for the bond they shared.
My brother attempted to build historically accurate forts out of the couch cushions.
My sister eschewed the architectural advances of the past and employed only modern fort designs.
Regardless of the difference in style, their forts only served to strengthen our overall home defense yet they rendered our couch nearly un-sittable.
My sister created amazingly detailed fairy tale stories in which she usually played the queen.
My brother constantly questioned the validity of her rise to the throne.
Though they would attempt to laugh about this, her flamboyantly fictional royalty only served to make him question his own creativity and lineage.
My brother designed fairly amateurish and structurally flawed sand castles.
My brother designed fairly amateurish and structurally flawed sand castles.
My sister played the role of the forlorn duchess who lost her family when the castle walls came tumbling down.
Both kids grew up with an unhealthy lack of respect for the integrity of all walls leading to much hilarity and mental-health concerns for all.
I remember the day of their high school graduation as if it were yesterday. It was last week. I had always wondered, as I observed them growing up, what sort of adults they would become and whether one could live or be happy without the other. With their bright futures in front of them, family dinner table discussions turned from teenage issues to much more adult topics - college, work, loans, travel and yet, I still saw, in front of me, those same two babies who were figuratively joined at the hip. Much to mom and dad's delight and relief, they decided to stay at home and attend the local community college. I couldn't imagine a future where they weren't together. While their interests and future plans had diverged somewhat and each had really started to act as an individual, they were still eerily similar and a perfect foil for each other.
The present
My sister fills notebook after notebook with concentric circles that look like Venn diagrams when viewed with squinted eyes from a distance.
My brother tried, on multiple occasions, to pay his rent by selling these completed notebooks to both circle fanatics and Venn diagram enthusiasts alike.
Many a Sunday evening was spent at the kitchen table debating and discussing the merits of intersections and unions specifically and the political implications of sets in general.
My brother is trying to reduce his footprint.
My sister carries a small pouch of fine carbon powder scattering it where she thinks he may walk next.
They spend hours upon hours drawing pictures of bowls of fruit with charcoal often disagreeing on proper shading techniques and the importance of perspective.
My sister reads obsessively as if glued to her book.
My brother is always trying to sneak around the house gluing things to her, or failing that, using heavy-duty packing tape.
They were always gluing and taping things to each other and yet neither wanted to be actually stuck to the other, unless entered in a three-legged race and then only the highest quality adhesives could be used.
My brother is studying and preparing to be a nurse with a heart of gold.
My sister can't stop mocking his attempts to study medicine, all the while keeping very close watch on the price of valuable metals.
Secretly they both hope that one day, his nursing skills may come in handy, and if not, they will always have the mocking and, if very desperate, some gold.
My sister fills pages of her private journal with poems about love and loss.
My brother has to continue to come up with ways to both love and lose in his life to feed her fresh material.
The poems become not only a reflection of his life, but also a refraction due to an incorrectly placed set of mirrors in his room.
I often wonder what the future will hold for them. I can only hope and imagine that whatever lies ahead for each, that they will always be intertwined with the other. They will forever be each other's yin and yang. But what, precisely will they do? Will they become a team of doctors who travel to the deep recesses of impoverished countries? Will they host a morning radio show displaying incessant wit and annoying insight on a daily basis? Will they become feared and revered tag-team professional wrestlers with a propensity for choke-holds? Will they pen and illustrate a series of children's books rife with cute animal characters and moralistic messages? Will they dig graves? All I know is that I hope that they never lose their sense of humour, their spirit and their drive and that I am able to experience, firsthand, their futures.
The future
My brother plans to give away all of his worldly possessions.
My sister carries a small pouch of fine carbon powder scattering it where she thinks he may walk next.
They spend hours upon hours drawing pictures of bowls of fruit with charcoal often disagreeing on proper shading techniques and the importance of perspective.
My sister reads obsessively as if glued to her book.
My brother is always trying to sneak around the house gluing things to her, or failing that, using heavy-duty packing tape.
They were always gluing and taping things to each other and yet neither wanted to be actually stuck to the other, unless entered in a three-legged race and then only the highest quality adhesives could be used.
My brother is studying and preparing to be a nurse with a heart of gold.
My sister can't stop mocking his attempts to study medicine, all the while keeping very close watch on the price of valuable metals.
Secretly they both hope that one day, his nursing skills may come in handy, and if not, they will always have the mocking and, if very desperate, some gold.
My sister fills pages of her private journal with poems about love and loss.
My brother has to continue to come up with ways to both love and lose in his life to feed her fresh material.
The poems become not only a reflection of his life, but also a refraction due to an incorrectly placed set of mirrors in his room.
I often wonder what the future will hold for them. I can only hope and imagine that whatever lies ahead for each, that they will always be intertwined with the other. They will forever be each other's yin and yang. But what, precisely will they do? Will they become a team of doctors who travel to the deep recesses of impoverished countries? Will they host a morning radio show displaying incessant wit and annoying insight on a daily basis? Will they become feared and revered tag-team professional wrestlers with a propensity for choke-holds? Will they pen and illustrate a series of children's books rife with cute animal characters and moralistic messages? Will they dig graves? All I know is that I hope that they never lose their sense of humour, their spirit and their drive and that I am able to experience, firsthand, their futures.
The future
My brother plans to give away all of his worldly possessions.
My sister has been carefully implanting that idea in him for months through a series of homemade subliminal audio cassettes.
They were raised to both respect and uncover creative uses for implanting and all implant-related activities and enterprises (the utilization of audio cassettes was quite a bold move, as our father had forbade that).
My sister dreams of growing a garden full of the freshest, tastiest vegetables.
My brother already has plans to can those fresh vegetables to survive the impending nuclear winter or for profit.
Food in general and vegetables in specific will always be a source of strength for the two of them mostly after they are digested and occasionally as weapons.
My brother wishes that one day he can own his own house in the countryside.
My sister plans to first appear supportive and then swoop in and outbid him and buy the house first allowing him to rent the barn.
Their competitiveness, especially as it pertains to large, shelter-like purchases could be seen as quaint or sweet, but that would be vastly confusing.
My sister hopes to learn to play the alto saxophone so that she can truly express herself.
My brother is okay with her desire to play the sax, but cannot forget the pain he experienced due to her last round of true expression.
My brother already has plans to can those fresh vegetables to survive the impending nuclear winter or for profit.
Food in general and vegetables in specific will always be a source of strength for the two of them mostly after they are digested and occasionally as weapons.
My brother wishes that one day he can own his own house in the countryside.
My sister plans to first appear supportive and then swoop in and outbid him and buy the house first allowing him to rent the barn.
Their competitiveness, especially as it pertains to large, shelter-like purchases could be seen as quaint or sweet, but that would be vastly confusing.
My sister hopes to learn to play the alto saxophone so that she can truly express herself.
My brother is okay with her desire to play the sax, but cannot forget the pain he experienced due to her last round of true expression.
Jazz music will always be the soundtrack of their lives. My dad saw to that himself.
My brother plans to teach his future children how to play tennis with his compelling mix of passion, humour and a deranged desire to crush everyone.
My sister appreciates his passion, loves his humour and respects his deranged desire, but is just not supportive at all of plan to have children, especially tennis-playing ones.
Neither of them will ever forget the often understated role that that banged-up, over-sized Prince tennis racquet playing in their upbringing and how it essentially raised them both.
I know this beautiful union must one day end. I dream that, far in the future, we can all be together again, as we were as children. I imagine that I will always feel a little separate from those two, as if I missed out on a long-standing private joke. They will make eye-contact that will tell thousand-word stories and I, always the observer, will watch, both proud and feeling somewhat isolated. As we all near the end of our existence, a new door will open and we will all go through that door to the unknown, and yet, their connection will never waver. At times I wonder what could have been, but I do know that when I look back on this whole thing, I'm just glad I was along for the ride.
My brother plans to teach his future children how to play tennis with his compelling mix of passion, humour and a deranged desire to crush everyone.
My sister appreciates his passion, loves his humour and respects his deranged desire, but is just not supportive at all of plan to have children, especially tennis-playing ones.
Neither of them will ever forget the often understated role that that banged-up, over-sized Prince tennis racquet playing in their upbringing and how it essentially raised them both.
I know this beautiful union must one day end. I dream that, far in the future, we can all be together again, as we were as children. I imagine that I will always feel a little separate from those two, as if I missed out on a long-standing private joke. They will make eye-contact that will tell thousand-word stories and I, always the observer, will watch, both proud and feeling somewhat isolated. As we all near the end of our existence, a new door will open and we will all go through that door to the unknown, and yet, their connection will never waver. At times I wonder what could have been, but I do know that when I look back on this whole thing, I'm just glad I was along for the ride.
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