It Takes Two

Thirty-six years ago today two beautiful babies, well, one beautiful baby and one teeny, orange, gangly creature (who, rest assured, grew up to be a very attractive man), showed up in my life two months before they were supposed to show up.  Until that point I was an only child.  I was the only granddaughter.  And, at least on one side of my family, I was an only grandchild, an only niece.  That didn't last long.  The only comfort I find in losing my reigning princess status is knowing that it took two of them to unseat me.

I was not quite three years old at the time so my recollections of that summer are fuzzy at best.  I remember my mom spending A LOT of time on bed rest.  I remember that when she was up and moving all I could see was this really, big belly.

I remember being in charge of lunch some days.  Before leaving for work Dad would put yogurt and graham crackers on the bottom shelf of the fridge so I could reach them.  I remember breaking my leg that summer and my mom pleading with me to get up and walk because she just couldn't carry me.  She wasn't even supposed to be up.  I remember Dad carting Mom and I off to my grandparents house shortly after that because he had to work and a pregnant wife on bed rest and a two year old in a cast just could not be left home alone any longer.

That's about it.

I don't remember my mom going in to labor.  I don't remember her being in the hospital, though I am sure she was there for a while.  I don't remember if I visited the new babies in the hospital, though that probably wasn't allowed back then, even if they hadn't been so premature.

I don't even remember the day they were brought home from the hospital.  Or the days and weeks that followed.

I'm fairly certain my grandparents and my aunt, Rhonda (never Aunt Rhonda) and my uncle, Brad spoiled me rotten during those days and weeks.  They have loved me well my whole life and I have never questioned that.

So, while I have vague memories of life before The Twins were born, the memories since then are even more precious.  They are part of me and I am part of them and we belong to each other - no matter how close or far apart we are.

First they were "my babies."

Then they were The Twins.

Now, they are my friends.

Tree climbing. Backyard hole digging.  Mud pie making.  Giggling and games, fighting and making up.  Tic, tac, toe and sit-n-spin.  Connecting dots in church and trying so hard to keep quiet.  And teacups.  Always, teacups.

For over four years you were mine.  Then another came. Twenty months later another.  First we were a family of three.  Then five.

Then seven.  Soon fifteen.

Still there are games and giggling.  Now there is music and laughter, teasing and tears.  Skype and stairs.  And, love.  Lots of love.  Sometimes there is so much love that all I can do as I kneel to pray each night is just say your names and feel.