Thursday, February 28, 2008

D

. . . is for the "Ds".
Chronologically, we are Deborah, Diane, Daniel, David, Donna & Dennis. In age we are 50, 48, 47, 46, 45 and 42. In this picture (taken at the birthday party) we are, from left to right, Diane, Daniel, Deb, Dennis, Donna, & David. These are my siblings. We share a common last name, parents, and genes. We share memories of events in our early lives but they are all remembered through our own filters now. Once sworn enemies for life for ratting each other out or wearing a sweater or taking the car when it was promised to you, these are now my most trusted confidantes and friends; the executor of our estate is in this group, as is the friend to whom I turn first when I'm tearful or joyful. The one who taught me how to bathe my baby is in this picture. I held the colicky child of one of this people for hours on end while the mom slept because dad's job means travel all the time. When one's baby daughter was born with a minor heart defect, I held that sibling in my arms while he cried for hours. When I moved out of my house after my divorce, it was brothers and sisters who came and did what I could not do - pack up a life and move on.

Many of us are separated by distance now; all of us are separated by time. But we are bound together by something more than family and genetics.

We are the Ds.