3 Oct



They skip ahead of me, as usual, half running, half jumping, singing “Last one to the bridge is a rotten, or in Rosalyn’s case, a “wotten” egg.”

Vivian runs fearlessly, straight on until morning, Ros, not so much, casting the odd glance backwards, looking for me, torn between grown up fun and the security of my hands. Eventually Vivian slows down for Ros to catch her, and they lean into each other. There are secrets there, which will only grow.

I have daughters.

They are sisters.


Lately, they are closer, by which I mean, conversely more enamoured and more irritated by each other. We walk up the trail, and they plot their “mission” together, covertly. We walk home, and Rosalyn is crying because Vivian won’t let her use her code name and it’s!not!fair!hmph! ~stompfeet~.

They grow closer each day, Rosalyn less and less and baby, Vivian more and more interested in her sister as someone to hang out with, someone who can play and laugh and sing with her. They have grown so over this summer. Vivian becoming this long limbed woman who I can see, ghostlike, hovering over her like a texture someone muddled together in a backroom. Her hair glitters in the sunlight, warm oak and pine, her eyes old already, her soul, muddled like buttered rum.

While Rosalyn has become sturdier, stronger, capable, at 4, of lifting a 12 pack of Coke off the shelf and on to the buggy, making it impossible for me to call her “baby” and mean it anymore. She twinkles, like a star, and sings her songs into the air like a memory. I keep thinking she’s this little creature, surprised when she follows instructions or grabs her own snack without asking me to help.

They become less my daughters, and more their sisters with each month that moves past us. I can’t keep up, the legs that spike, the ears that hear everything, the fingers which have lost their stubble, found their affinity for piano instead. I watch them, and realize that soon, they’ll know more about each other than I’ll know about them.

And dammit, if it isn’t sad, hitting me in the chest as the fall sun glows on their backs. This pure knowledge that they’re growing up, and past me, a breeze I cannot shutter indoors or let cool me. I feel like I can grab one of them, twirl them upside down, and shake out my babies, my long lost, unappreciated babies. Those which were mine.

I’m jealous. I’m jealous as all get out of the relationship that’s developing-the lying for each other, the happiness when Vivian walks in the door from school, the hugs, the sharing without asking, the compassion and love my girls have for one another. It’s lovely, and tugs at my eyes each day. I tear up at the hope and knowledge that this is who they’ll be 20 years from now, friends, co-conspirators. Hopeless without the other.

I’m prouder than I could ever say at the sight and sound of my daughters, hand in hand, walking away from me, giggles from their lips and eyes.


7 Responses to “Walk”

  1. Netter October 3, 2009 at 9:46 pm #

    My sisters have this. I do not have it with them. But, this is why I wish we’d had a second child, even though the thought of me post-partum scares us both. I still wish I could give this to my son, even though it would be different as a brother.

  2. de October 3, 2009 at 10:11 pm #

    Some of my happiest parenting moments now come from watching my children together. As brother and sister, their relationship will be different from that of two siblings of the same sex, but still, they have something special and I look forward to watching it blossom with the years.

  3. Marcy October 3, 2009 at 10:52 pm #

    I for sure don’t have it with my siblings, and that, along with PPD, is one of several reasons I don’t want more than our one child. But I envy it when I see it. Especially that time when my friend had her sister come help her when the new baby was born.

  4. March October 4, 2009 at 7:01 pm #

    it’s the most amazing thing to witness for sure.
    may they never loose it and know that it’s a sacred bond indeed.

    and how can you not be proud, for not only are they showing each other love and care, they are showing the world the love and care you’ve given them and keep on giving them.

    lovely and touching post… as always.

  5. bromac October 5, 2009 at 11:54 am #

    I have this relationship with the younger of my three brothers. This is what I want so badly for my daughter, whether a brother or sister, just a sibling. (and may have it….send me some stick-egg-stick wishes please)

  6. Jay Andrew Allen October 5, 2009 at 1:34 pm #

    I see the way my kids interact as siblings, and it makes me wish I had brothers or sisters. I hope that bond lasts them the rest of their days.

  7. Bon October 7, 2009 at 7:49 pm #

    oh, that picture. i hope for a little of this for my kids.

    and some small part of me knows i’ve spent a lot of my life searching for it, somewhere, in most people i’ve met.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: