Home w/ the Fam

I had some much-needed time at home this weekend. Went to my sister's for my brother-in-law's birthday Friday night. I love seeing them - it doesn't happen enough. I'm very close to my sister, despite being 15 years apart in age. We're very similar, and I think we both enjoy being silly like little girls when we get together, like a vacation to the past, sometimes to two different pasts that we meld together and approximate being teenagers together.

When I was in pre-school my sister was going to college. One time she took me along with her - I was so excited to go to a big-kid school and get out of boring pre-school for a day. I took my 101 Dalmations coloring book (so I would have "work" to do while she was doing work in class). When I think about it now, I can't imagine bringing my five year old nephew to one of my classes. I didn't realize at the time how bold she was, how cool it was for her to give me that experience even if people thought she was weird. She went to Alvernia, which is a small Catholic college, but it was still probably a very strange thing to do. I remember the professor said "hell" during class and got really embarrassed for cursing in front of me. The other students talked to me, asked to trade for my coloring book, then got focused on class and I just "sat in."

My sister dealt with a lot of crap due to our age difference. She had withdrawn from high school to be home-schooled not too long before I was born (she was not challenged in school and didn't fit in - she took a courses through a University in Nebraska to get a high school certificate) and the ensuing rumor was that I was her child. She'd take me to the mall and have to endure the sidelong glances and stares of those who assumed she was a teenaged mother. But she didn't care - she took me all over the place in her used black Saab, listening to 80s music and talking about elementary school. I'd borrow her sunglasses and watch the way she drove, the way she mouthed the words to her favorite songs. She was so unbelievably cool. She's the one who chose my name, Hilary. My parents asked her to name me. That was only the first gift of many she would freely give, including me and protecting me at an age when most people are at their most selfish.

I hope I can be a similar figure in my nephew's life. He's the coolest little guy, and I love watching him play with Tom. He calls me "Aunt Bean." I miss him while I'm at school, but it's so healing to get home and get to see him - to run around the house and chase each other, to color, to play with his matchbox cars and have tickle fights... I don't ever want to grow up.