I just learned that today is Siblings Day (who knew?). I have to get ready for a trip to Boston so I’m reposting something I wrote here in 2007. Good lord, I’ve been blogging here for seven years (nine, actually, I should have a virtual party next year). Happy siblings day, Peter and Doug! I love you both! Oh, but all this dental misery that just ended????? Totally their fault. AND, to this day they are proud of it, which actually cracks me up. Apparently I was a pain in the ass. (They are not aware that they were too! Who wasn’t though, growing up?)
May 2, 2007
My friend Chris called me yesterday to tell me how nice my brother Douglas is. He is so nice she had to call me to rave about him for a while. He is THAT NICE. He had called her to invite her to go to my choir performance and that he would be taking everyone out to dinner beforehand. She was actually high on the wonderfulness of my brother and she had to tell me. I was working and she didn’t have my complete attention. Then I got distracted by a 1947 Maya Deren movie of kittens. I am probably everyone’s most infuriating friend.
But I knew what she was feeling. My brother Douglas is the kind of person who says the things that we all later think, “I should have said that.” He says them. He is direct, honest, funny and sweet. It’s a heady thing sometimes, talking to him. Then we talked about how nice my other brother Peter is, but a different style. Douglas is effusive-nice, and Peter is quiet-nice. I once said I wanted a jewelry box and had been looking and looking for one, but I couldn’t find any that I liked. The next Christmas Peter gave me a jewelry box that he had HAND MADE. Plus, he’s gifted in how things are put together, so when you pull out the top tray of this box and put it back it always softly shooshes into place with this very satisfyingly perfect cushioned plink-feel. It’s hard to explain. Anyway, Peter has a good heart too, and manages to communicate what Douglas communicates, but in his way. Anyone who has ever gotten a perfectly crafted thing knows that it is love made into a physical object, and is every bit as comunicative as words.
Seriously though, I lucked out brothers-wise, they really are special. AND THEIR WIVES, Robin and Karen. Great people attract great people. I will never forget how Robin and Karen cared for my mother when she was dying. Robin is an artist. I’ve got a couple of her pieces here! Karen, I think she should be a school principal. She’d be like the cool principal. She is great with kids, but she has a wicked sense of humor. AND THEIR KIDS, Greg, Ellie, Nicole and Christopher. Greg is a writer too, although he may decide to go in an entirely different way with his life, he’s 16. But he’s really good and could be a writer if that’s what he decided. He’s a sweetie. Totally Doug and Robin’s kid. His sister Ellie, who is 9, is a handful, which for me is BIG compliment. I love a girl who is a handful. Go out there and KICK LIFE’S ASS, Ellie. Christopher, I know him the least, but he’s an aethist!! YAY. He’s also young, 17, so we’ll see if it holds, but one more for our team maybe!! Nicole is at Stonybrook and she loves animals like me, so of course Nicole is the BEST ONE. Just kidding. They tie. I keep meaning to ask Nicole how she likes Stonybrook because one of the women who I’ve been interviewing for this book (her grandmother was a medium I am writing about) has a daughter who is thinking of going there.
The top picture is Douglas on the beach at Amagansett, I think it was 1975. The next picture is Peter, around 1973. This is the Peter I grew up with. He was NEVER not playing guitar, and he loved Jimmy Hendrix, and while I can appreciate the man’s talent, I was not a fan. Many a time I plotted against my brother’s guitar. I wonder if they felt the same way after my millionth rendition of Joplin’s Maple Leaf Rag?
Oh, and please be noting that they are both blonde. I’m the adopted one, right??
I have that exact same picture of Peter! How did you get it?
OR maybe because he always wore that jean jacket and was always playing his guitar every photo came out the same.
Anyway, it brought forth some nice reminiscences. Memories are good for the soul.
Ha, I got it because I took it! I suspect you’re right, he was always wearing that jacket and always playing guitar!
We should look through each other’s photo albums! I think that would be fun. I stopped putting them together pretty early on, but I have one or two from high school and college.