Born and Met

I’m watching my children play together. My children, together. The five-year old hides and the toddler seeks. Next, they take turns on a toddler sliding board. Flowergirl exclaims, “Wee! Wee!” while Sunboy positions himself so that she has no alternative but to slide into him.

They look alike. This continues to amaze me as I study their faces and try to define common features. There’s no mistaking it. Brother and sister. Same mother, same father. In some ways it’s so simple.

Where did these little people come from? Let me re-phrase that. I know where they came from. I was there, but it’s hard for the mind to fully grasp, even for the person most acquainted with their grand entrance. The manner in which a new human develops and comes into the world may be one of those things that we know much about and yet still file under  “and then something magical happens”. A person comes out of another person. These are not Russian nesting dolls. A baby emerges from a slowly expanding belly. Wow.

My children started in the same place and then met in the world. Found each other. Found me. Found a part of me that was new for me, or maybe buried deep inside (same thing).

Let me try again. At one point, they each were completely unaware of the other or of much else besides perhaps my heartbeat and a few moments of light and shadows. They swam the same sea alone, without knowledge of the other. Then, they were born and they met.

My children are like former occupants of the same apartment meeting for tea.

I wonder if they sense it, their common link. They seem to. There was a magical moment in their initial meeting, as if they knew of their shared experience. Now they comprise a committee of two that will share holidays, commiserate about crazy parents and decide what to do with mom someday. I sense they will do well in their journey together, now that they’ve met.

7 thoughts on “Born and Met

  1. Gorgeous piece of writing—> . My children are like former occupants of the same apartment meeting for tea.
    You make me wanna have more children.

  2. How lovely your posts get with every blooming day. And the photo adds beauty to the words. May be your womb told stories to your daughter about the little boy whom it took care for nine months that they knew each other when they first met. I always think that the first cry of the baby are tears of joy. Meeting us after eons. Like we did and so did our parents….

    1. Such beautiful thoughts of connectedness, between siblings not yet met, between generations waiting in the wings. Thank you, Subha. I love this.

  3. I often watch my grandchildren,Ecco (4 yrs 11 mos) and Gray (2 yrs 5 mos) play together. They usually play well together even though there’s 2 1/2 yrears that separate them. Gray, tries hard to be in charge while Ecco is usually the peace maker. A funny incident happened the other day. Gray pulled me into his room and closed the door. Ecco knocked on the door to be let in. Gray said, “Ecco, stay out of my room.” After trying this approach a few times I asked her to go to her Mom or her Aunt to play with them. After awhile Gray heard a strange noise then silence and then the noise again. He had to look out into the hall to see what was making the noise. There he saw Ecco who had set herself up on pillows and blankets siting with her legs out stretched like Cleopatra on her barge going for a ride down the Nile. In her hand was a large blow up flower that made a strange noise when you squeeze it. He of course wanted to be part of this procession. No sooner than I set up some pillows for him that Ecco announced that she had to take her nap now and proceeded to her bunk bed and closed her door. He was shut out and found himself in the position of knocking on her door.

    1. Haha, Ronnie! So the rivalry begins! Which one gets to close the door? Ah, it’s going to be such a wonderful adventure. I find it every moment fascinating, particularly since I wasn’t lucky enough to have a sibling of my own. Enjoy them! : )

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