it’s funny how little it takes to make me nostalgic. today, all it took was a friend sending over a mr. bean clip and suddenly i was tumbling backward to soft, simple afternoons when i was a just little kid… before i was old enough to be latchkey, before daycare arrived in our school district – back when it was just me and my big brother at home alone after school. the memories are faint, because there was only one year we were ever at the same school at the same time. only one year that i was asked to “wait for anthony” so we could walk home together: big brother, little sister.
i remember watching this with him:
and laughing because my brother laughed.
getting to know wallace and gromit, too:
and, one day, eating four strawberry fruit-a-freeze popsicles in a row – bought from a small japanese supermarket, meant for individual sale but taken home in the original cardboard packing boxes because we bought so many at once – and my brother getting blamed for my uncontrolled gluttony (but it was summer and so hot! and they were so good…)
and something else on pbs, a show whose name i can’t remember. but the kind-voiced, fuzzy-afro’d man taught crafts… the distinct sound of his sharp scissors chomping through thick construction paper still rings in my ears.
he had an episode once that taught how to make your own lick-and-stick stickers. my brother and i tried it, and i can’t remember how successful they were, but i remember being fascinated by the fact that vanilla extract was part of the lickable glue recipe.
i think i may have come to the part of my life where it circles back to the beginning. or the near-beginning. it’s likely i’ll be moving back home – the home i grew up in – in just a few months. …and i realize i might have a chance for a second go at this whole family thing, to grow up and learn how to be a better child. so i suppose it’s timely that i am thinking about my big brother and how he shaped me, whether by sitting beside me watching pbs, or playing his hipster music loud enough so that i could hear it down the hall, or even through his absence as we quickly grew up and apart.
today is one of those days when the fibers run together, and it feels good after such a long stretch of floating untethered.