June 3rd, 2009 | by Delilah Devlin |
I’m the oldest of four siblings—two girls, two boys. We’ve seen each other over the years, but we haven’t all been in the same place for a very long time. This week, we are all at my parent’s house, enjoying the pool an catching up on our lives.
One brother is here with his third wife of ten years and his daughter. He’s the brainiac of the family, a chemist and doing quite well. I’d never really known how to take his wife, but this time, we’re bonding over tattoos. She had the idea that all the women should take my mom and get tattoos together, something to remind us of our time together. My mother’s wild about the idea and she’s decided on a dragon in a place no one can miss. She’s seventy—she’s entitled. Now, I’m thinking my SIL is one of the coolest ladies on the planet.
My other brother surprised us by rolling in on a motorcycle with his ex-wife whom he’s been divorced from for about fifteen years. Today, while we were all sitting around the pool, he announced they’re remarrying and that they’ve decided on an Elvis wedding in Las Vegas later this summer. Could have blown me over, but since I always thought it was a damn shame they didn’t work out the first time, I couldn’t be happier.
My sister, well, she’s only four hours away and we see each other often, but I was bummed she wasn’t coming due to work conflicts. She called today to say she’s coming, but only for a few hours tomorrow. Now it feels complete.
We’re all older, some broader, someone’s balder, but when we talk about things from our childhood or discover we still laugh at the same things, it’s like we never lost touch. That’s the magic of family. And when all of them talk about carving up my parent’s property to build their retirement homes, I find I’m really looking forward to the day when we’re rolling our Hoverchairs to the pool.
I recently had my stomach flutter. It has been a long time since that occurred in the pit of my tummy.