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Almost every parent that I know will tell you that, if they have more than one child, “I love them both the same.” I know I always said that but as I have aged, I recognize that I do love them both the same, but differently.
It always amazes me that children can grow up with the same parents, in the same house, with major life events occurring at the same time and still grow up with such differences in their minds about how the story really went.
It is horrifying at times to hear them retell their childhood stories now as adults only to find that there were so many traumatic events, with varied stories about how they were treated, and to see how those perspectives altered the course of their lives. I also learned alot about their childhoods when they would return home as adults and recount life events with their friends around the campfire, recalling stories that would have caused me a stroke had I known about them.
Still, despite my ineptitude, both boys have grown to be intelligent, kind and responsible adults; so much the same, and yet completely different.
Rereading last week’s column, I ruefully noted that not one word was spoken about Jake (or Lemmy as he likes to be known now) and Jessica, even though they were both an integral part of my trip.
An early-morning flight on Saturday left me with the desire to get down there on Friday, instead of getting up at 3 a.m. to head south, especially since there were storms in the area. I could have stayed at a hotel and been shuttled to the airport the next morning, or called upon my good friend Judy as I did the last trip, but Lemmy suggested I spend the night with them, and that they would get me to and from the airport, allowing me to leave my new car in their safekeeping until my return.
Since Jessica had an appointment in southern Indiana on Friday, I had a rare night with my son, something that has not happened since he was home caring for his father. He introduced me to the “Yummy Bowl” phenomenon which lived up to its name. We went to a home and garden shop, a pet store, and then wandered around a newly opened hotel and shopping concourse, a possibility for the next trip with my husband, then returned to their home, where we spent hours shooting the breeze.
It always amazes me how Lemmy and I can talk for hours about nothing at all! We have described our relationship as “Two old ladies gabbing the night away.” Our conversations are sometimes deep, but generally filled with double-entendres and laughter. Like me, he knows no stranger and can chat up anyone, anytime. Also like his mother, his memory is as poor as mine. We share a joke about a greeting card with two dinosaurs standing on the shoreline as Noah’s Ark floats off in the distance.
“Was that TODAY?” the dinosaurs commiserated, realizing that this was how they became extinct. We both miss dates, and can rarely remember a story long enough to relate it. He is so like me….
Nick, however, is more like his dad, in that he is more introverted, but shares his dad’s artistic bent and ability to create things from nothing. He knows computers inside out and is often the first person I call when I screw up the “squawk-box” into perpetuity. He was the child who, as a youngster completely disassembled my vacuum cleaner but didn’t know how to put it back together. Yet after years of education and life experience, he can think through a problem and find a multitude of ways to fix the problem.
However, Lemmy is also gifted in the art-department. An avid gamer, he also paints the tiny little models that require intricacy and patience. He is currently designing their home with a Hobbit theme, and is probably driving his new wife absolutely crazy with the obsessive attention to detail and the perfection he expects from himself and others around him…just like his father. I have to hope that he will use his “Great Communicator” skills to find the balance between his expectations and hers.
I can sometimes hardly believe that they are brothers, since they are so different in so many ways. They will openly admit that they are not close, and yet, often I see similarities in their differences.
So, yes, I love them both the same, yet differently. Each has grown into their own skin, and require different parts of me to value them for what and who they really are.
‘Til Next Time!
Mrs. B.
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