#SOL24-26 Oldest

It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

Growing up, I was the only girl in the midst of four brothers: One, Two, me, Three, Four; it was a lucky start to life, I think. I could offer a ‘slice of life’ on each brother, but today I think I will focus on the oldest (let’s call him ‘One’). He and I were recently on vacation together; we have stayed close all our lives; our spouses get along beautifully, too, and we all enjoy exploring new places together. 

Of course, over vacation, we went down memory lane together, sharing stories. 

He was always kind to me and lots of fun. I was four years younger than him, and he would let me tag along; he never seemed to mind me hanging around. Whenever we moved somewhere new, One would investigate the neighborhood. We were a military family, meaning we had a migratory existence – moving around from place to place. One was always curious about everything. Often when he discovered something worthwhile, he’d tell me about it and we’d hop on our bikes and go there together. An example – I have fond memories of being alongside him to watch the drawbridge go up and down, when I was six years old and we moved to Mystic, Connecticut; this bridge was about a mile from our home, and he took me there regularly because we were both fascinated by the feat. 

One taught me so many card and board games, and he won 90% of the games all the time ( I think I was the only sibling that didn’t get frustrated by all this losing). I quickly learned to avoid Monopoly with him; I would lose resoundingly and it seemed pointless to engage. He remembers me tormenting him at chess; I had such a hard time learning this game that I began to mirror his every move with my pieces – which kind of takes the fun out of it, yes?

I still laugh at the memory of my mother and I coming home from grocery shopping at the Navy commissary and he and brother Two had climbed up on the roof of the old Victorian we lived in, pushing out an old skylight; oh, how my mother screamed. Yes, One was always a risk-taker.

The most ridiculous fight I remember having with my oldest brother was when I was about ten years old, and I was searching for something in my room. (What was it? Well, obviously not important enough for me to remember this many years later, but I really needed it at the time.) I remember he stood in the doorway and  sagely advised me “you will find it in the last place you look.” I yelled back in exasperation – “NO, I WON’T!” I searched my dresser drawers and found it in one – and I realized immediately what he meant, that the search was over. He said “See?” and I opened several more drawers and faked the search continuing. 

There was a lot of pain in our childhood, growing up with a distant, workaholic father and a mentally-ill mother, and I believe I was truly buffered from a lot of hurt by my older brothers, especially, One. We shared so many interests and I have many positive childhood memories of being with him. Thank goodness for him enjoying my company. Yes, my oldest brother made me feel safe, seen, and loved. 

All you need is One. 

Oldest Brother

reading me passages
from his comic book
making me feel seen

card games, board games
though Monopoly never took
he held all the green

teaching me strategies 
of chess, bishop and rook
capturing my queen

so clever, so funny
his laughter a hook
quick wit in his genes

meandering bike rides
wandering discover look
always happy, never mean

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