mine, his, ours

one thing my parents did perfectly (albeit by mistake)... was to have my brother and i 12 years apart...

i have 12 years of memories.. 12 years of being their only focus... i wasn't bitter or jealous when he was born... not when it came to my parent's attention (i was too busy trying to keep him out of my room and from killing my gold fish)... i was old enough to enjoy watching them enjoy him... i was old enough to be doing my "own thing"...and i moved out fairly early.. so, he got lots of years of having them all to himself... because of this we have personal memories to cherish, hold close or share....our memories fall into three categories... mine, his and ours

he doesn't have the memory of my dad's jeep backfiring on my leg... and my dad putting a cold beer can on it... he told me i was okay... i still have bits of whatever builds up in a tail pipe in my leg...but...hey... i'm okay... he doesn't have the memory of puking half way up Squaw Peak only to be rewarded with a solo hike with dad around the mountain while everyone else kept going up..he doesn't know how to play chess or what it feels like to watch him squirm as i explained the workings of a Wonder Bra and why i needed one ASAP

i will never have the memory of driving route 66 on a whim with dad... i will never have the memory of sleeping under the stars with him... i will never know what it feel like to be his "buddy," to talk about girls, to be the twinkle in his eye

sometimes we got a peek at each other's dad... like when we drove to Payson to camp, just the three of us... and we sang the same three Metalica songs over and over...

together we can remember fishing at the trout farm, camping in a hotel room, friday night dinners at pizza hut... together we have one memory that will be the same for both of us... something that will never change.... we had one heck of a dad who blessed us with so many memories...