Middle Children
Family can be hard to live with. You wake up in the morning, you go downstairs expecting to have a peaceful breakfast and maybe a cup of tea when your eleven-year-old brother starts singing mary had a little lamb in an extremely off-key tone. You reach into your favorite box of honey nut Cheerios just to find it’s already been finished. When you come home, all you want is to relax and do your homework but no, your parents decide you have to wash the dishes. Finally you have a moment  of peace, get settled in, close the door, only to be followed by the unrelenting honks of a dying goose that are mistaking labeled saxophone music. Ever since I’ve been in third grade, I’ve counted down the years until I could be expected to move out and create a life of my own. Freedom; it called to be so tantalizingly and yet so far out of my reach.


Even when I was little, I would wonder at the world. What made it tick, my little brain filled with questions I would never ask. A bystander might look at the glossy shade of my eyes and wonder what lied behind them while only being able to see what was in the reflection. My thoughts were like fluff and would disappear almost as soon as they popped into my head, I found myself thinking similar thoughts over again in similar situations. Almost as soon as I learned to write I would record these ideas as they came to me, spending more time daydreaming than I did living. Outside of my thoughts, my face appeared vacuous, my eyes glossy, but behind those eyes new worlds were discovered, realities questioned, and human kind itself dissected and analyzed.


It is never easier to feel alone than in a large group of people like a family. With so much hustle and bustle it is easy to forget to savor the little moments that make everything worthwhile. I felt isolated; the only time I felt close to my family was the little insignificant moments that hardly summed to matter. Silly little things such as coming in to my mother’s room in the mornings just so she could tickle me. During long car rides I would pretend to fall asleep so my dad would carry me up stairs and tuck me in bed. During the toils of everyday life these precious moments seemed lost, my family members unreachable. Letting them in appeared unthinkable and I was left to my own devices.


. Family seemed to me more like the people I had to be around than the people I wanted to be around. When my oldest brother, Tom left for college, a sort of emptiness seemed to haunt the house. Sometimes I would walk up the stairs, open up the door that once led to his room and then close it, disappointed. Ben, my senior by two years and second oldest brother seemed the most afflicted other than our parents. Tom was the older but somewhat distant brother to me, but Ben looked up to him and acted directly to impress him. I noticed Ben’s attitude towards me do a 180°. Up until that point he never paid much attention to me unless it was to prove his position in the sibling pecking order. Eventually we would stay up, not too late, talking about what was happening in our lives. These talks happened very seldom at first, and then as time passed more and more often. I found he understood, and was related easier to me than my friends because we have the same family. Eventually a mutual bond of trust formed and we knew that anything discussed in these talks would be respected.


Two years ago, when I was a freshman we went to Wild horse as a school. We did mostly normal camp stuff, get-to-know-you games and group bonding. Ben was a junior and came a long on the trip. We hardly saw each other, maybe once or twice. I generally didn’t want to be around him when I could be doing other things. The activities were wonderful and I enjoyed most of it and still to this day keep many treasured memories of those five days spent in eastern Oregon. I regarded the trip with an open mind. I was excited at the prospect and promised myself to be outgoing and do things I wouldn’t normally do. I saw this as the chance I’ve been waiting for to let people into the world behind the eyes.

Being someone who reflects on matters more than acts on them, I found it rather nice to do, than think for once. I brought my journal with me to wild horse, but didn’t really write in it, a decision which I’m still not entirely sure I’m happy with. In order to fully enjoy what you are experiencing, and understand the full depths of it we must reflect and ingest it is meaning; but in order to fully reflect we must act freely with out separating ourselves from other people or thinking too much. It was, of course, unthinkable not to reflect on my situations. Everything has meaning, I find myself creating allegories out of my everyday life. Watch a movie and I found myself wondering why the producer made the decisions they did, the significance of this, what was meant by that.

At first I was extremely reluctant to let people in. Occasionally things were too big, too exciting to be kept inside my mind alone. Sharing some of the most private inner working of my mind somehow solidified them, as if someone else’s awareness made it more real, more tangible. Any of my secret discoveries would simmer and bubble inside of me until they manifested themselves into something else. Confiding felt like unloading burdens, and served to make me feel more at ease.


One of the group activities at wild horse was called the truth circle. Everyone at the camp participating sat in chairs in a large circle. The principle or facilitator would make a statement or ask a question. They started out pretty general: “do you have a pet?” “Have you ever…” Then they started to get more serious. “Have you ever lost a family member?” “Have you ever contemplated suicide?” everyone in the room took things very seriously and supported those who had something in common with them. I loved the group support. Something magical happens in an atmosphere with lots of people trusting each other. Here was a situation where I could open up to many people, have the support of a group and not be put on the spot. I was beginning to learn at last that the perfect balance is to act with fun intent and realization of the situation. Not to think without acting, or, to act without thinking. Regard everything with an open mind, and accept what is happening, as it is happening. I could now participate in, and analyze at the same time.  


The truth circle was progressing and everyone was getting really into it. The next question was asked, “Stand up if your sibling is also your best friend” I stood up, and went to the middle of the room. I was serious about the question, but for some of them, as I am sure other people did too, I stood up not necessarily, because it applied to me, but for the hugs, so even if it applied to me a little, I went. I went form person to person, sharing hugs and briefly embracing when in the center of the crowd I saw that Ben had stood up as well. We were both deeply touched and at a loss for words. Tears trickled lightly on my eyelashes as we hugged and shared a moment a brief precious moment that although during the toils of everyday life might seem insignificant, will remain in my memory forever.