A Valentine for Sisters?

So many memories. So little time. Next week my sisters are gathering in a hamlet in Utah, somewhere in the snow. The sun will surely be missed. But I think the brother will be missed more. How can I be so sure? Well, after a day's reflection in preparation for this fairly-narcisstic column, I've come to the conclusion that my sisters don't know how to have fun without me. First, introductions: in the picture associated with this post, the girl on the left is Whitney, the one next to her is Erin, then me, then two cousins, who will represent Rachel and Sally, my other two sisters.

So back to my day's reflections...which in fact, have become memories.

My earliest memory together with my sisters is, I think, a funny one. It's funny because I remember it so clearly, and I remember knowing I was truly innocent at the time. I was like Adam in the Garden, as you're about to find out. My sisters were sitting in the front room. I walked down the hall from my bedroom to the front room and stared at them. I then dropped my pants and showed them something they didn't have. When my parents got home, my sisters told on me. That was the night I learned about respect for anatomy. A funny memory because I think they don't remember it at all. But it was a turning point for me. (at least until Jonathan and me got caught mooning Whitney's friend, Becky Tanner, who also told on us) Red moons that night when we went to bed. :(

Another memory proving how much fun my sisters have with me involves "fraggle-rocks." I'm not sure that's how you spell it, but for fear of PTSD symptoms, I will never type those two words into google. Never. For some reason these buggers creeped me out. One night, sick in bed, my sisters came in to see if I needed a glass of water. (I might not have been sick but this adds drama in a Stephen King way) I said yes. What pleasant little women for sisters I have. With three standing sentry at the door, one came back with a glass of water. I raised the glass only to have fraggle rocks tumble down into my face! Knowing me today, I must have cursed a storm and thrown the glass back at them as they ran laughing out of the room.

Times were better when I got older. When I say "better times," it always means for my sisters and rarely for me. One of my joys in life is either buying a new hat, or a new watch. I still remember my first hat. It was a Lakers hat my dad bought for me. I'm sure I wore it everywhere. One night with my parents gone (for some reason I always remember them being gone at night to the temple) I was sitting on the couch reading a book. From behind, one of the sisters, I won't name names but her's starts with an "r," grabbed my hat. I jumped back for it but she threw it to "w." "w" then threw it to "e." And around it went...r...w...e....e....w...r. After reducing me to tears, my happy sisters replaced my hat on my head. Life went on. Can you begin to imagine now that next week my sisters won't know how to have a good time if I'm not around? :)

My next memory isn't really a memory as much as a legacy. Talk to my sister Sally someday about the art of sneaking out at night. She is Houdini. When there were locks, she went through them. When there were no locks, she made a lock, and still went through it. Good times in Fruit Heights. But Sally, I think it's safe to say, I trained you in the art, no? For many a weekend you monitored my sneaking out our Harvest St. home, off to battle dragons. Oh the things we do in the name of Valentine. Good times.

Sadly, I have to burn the rest of my midnight oil on more important things, like sleep. So to keep the post thematic, I will end on a romantic memory. It's a memory I've always wanted to share with Erin. We moved away from our Harvest Street home in 2000. I stayed in AZ with Erin to attend ASU while the family moved to Utah. During this time Erin was dating her current husband John Tingey. One night my friend Jonathan and I were walking by our sold home. The home was completely empty, awaiting new occupants. We were curious when we saw a light on in the house. We walked up to the front door and peered through the arched window at the top of the door. There, in the front room of anatomy, my sister and future bro-in-law were making out! Jonathan and I looked at each other and after a nod and chuckle, we rang the doorbell and ran away....Happy Valentines Whitney, Rachel, Erin, and Sally! Your brother missed you today and always.