I have a picture on the slide show that is my screensaver at work and every time it pops up it makes me reflect on my family. I grew up the youngest of five kids. My nearest sibling was my brother that was a year older but the oldest three were eight, ten & eleven years older. Early photos of me show my sisters dressing me up in doll clothes. There is one picture in the family album that shows one of them holding me next to the goat pen (coincidentally I also remember them telling me that I came to be part of this family when I was found out in a goat pen one cold morning but that’s another story). What isn’t apparent in the photo is the fact that I am terrified of the two goats behind me, their names were June and July and July never missed an opportunity to terrorize me, but safe in the arms of my older sister I knew they couldn’t get me. That’s the nice thing about older siblings, that sense of security when they are around. I remember that I felt as good with them as I did in the arms of my mom.
We don’t see each other much these days but when we do it’s as if no time has lapsed. Below are shots of the four of us, circa 1960 and 2005. No matter how old we get we are still the little brother and sister and they are still “the bosses of us” (so they think)!