thoughts, words, deeds

surrounded by women

Let's talk about the women in your life: after all, it is Mother's Day weekend.

I am surrounded by women—which isn’t a bad thing. I also have men who are important to me, but I am the oldest of six—and my only brother has five sisters. There are other women in my life, of course, but my family holds a special place for me.

My mother is a special woman. She relies on me in a way that was difficult when I was younger. I remember when I was twelve, she had a miscarriage. They had only told us (five of the six were born at the time) a few days before, and I remember her crying on the couch and holding her hand because there wasn’t anything I could say or do to make her feel better. She has a sense of humor, but she doesn’t laugh out loud. We always made a game of trying to make her laugh. Madeline is the best at it.

I was only two years and ten days old when Joyce was born. Because of that, I don’t have any real memories of before her. We were inseparable as children. When we were four and two (about the time Rachel was born) we used to play a game that involved going up to the attic and telling stories to each other. That was something we did throughout our childhood. It was hard on me when she left to get married. She met her first husband on the internet on a Firefly fan fic site and married three days after meeting him in person, at which point they went off together to live twelve hours away. After they divorced, she married another man who only has taken her two hours out of town, which is much more convenient. They came to visit yesterday, and it was so nice to see her. We slip almost immediately into the patterns we made together as children. She has two grown step-children and a step-grandchild with another on the way, which just trips up my head, thinking that my Joy is a grandma.

Rachel was always the type of person who took space. I mean that literally. You’d be sitting on the couch, and all of a sudden, she’d sit beside you and insinuate her feet under your butt, and then ten minutes later, you’d be on the floor and she’d have sole possession. She’s almost four years younger than me. She’s a musician—plays the piano beautifully. BS in Math and MFA in Collaborative Piano. She got her masters in the years after she got married, which meant when her oldest was young, I spent a lot of time watching her. She’s such a sweet person, but sharp and self protective to the point that you don’t want to get on her bad side because you’ll never get out. I don’t compete with her. It’s not worth it. She has five children (the oldest is a girl, the rest are boys)—four living. Her third baby died at five days. It was difficult on all of us. When her fourth was about eighteen months old (he’s about to turn five) she caught a sinus infection and lost the sight in her left eye. But nothing stops her. She’s a wonderful mother. Homeschools. I stayed with them for about three months total, helping with the kids while that happened, so we got to know each other as adults. I like her husband. I couldn’t live with him long term, but he’s good for her.

My brother gave me a sister—the only one I have that’s not blood. Lynda is good for him, and I love her for that. We got to know each other before she started dating him, and were friends while she went to school for her Masters—Eguptologu. She’s the type of girl who takes care of things—when she was in school, her place was full of little breakable things that all had sentimental value to her that she could tell stories about. Together they have six and a half children—four boys , two girls, and another on the way due around the end of August or early September, We haven’t seen them in person since their oldest was a baby because they went to live with her parents, chasing a job. She’s such a strong person, but I’m not sure I could live with her even in the short term. She’s very careful.

Madeline was born when I was nine (I’m forty-one now). She’s a joy and always has been. Of course, sometimes she’s a bit of a terror, but that’s what happens when you have a child with more energy than sense. She was a musician through high school—clarinet and bass clarinet—and then studied music education in college. In some ways, she’s more of a musician than anyone in the family except her husband. He studied jazz piano and then got his masters in composition and now has a job with the air force band in Germany. Which means, we don’t see Maddie and her three very often (one girl, two boys). She always was into things—so much so that if something was lost in the house, she was the one who would know exactly where it was. She can make anyone happy. Her husband knows how lucky he is—at least I hope he does.

Last, Rose was born just after I turned sixteen. She has always been the baby of the family, but now that I’ve learned more about who she is as an adult, I’m impressed by her. She is an artist. Painter. She suffered from dyslexia as a child and didn’t learn to read until she was eleven, but as an adult, she got her BA in English (with a minor in art) and loves to write stories. It’s so much fun to talk stories with her. She suffered anxiety as a child and still has some stress in social situations, but she’s so much better than she was. She is stubborn.

I’m so glad for the women in my life. I could go on and talk about nieces and cousins and grandmothers and aunts and teachers and friends—in person and on line. . . but I am just thankful that I have them. And I hope I am as much a strength to them as they are to me.