study hall
by bam
it’s rare in this house for both boys to be on the same page.
one is paying attention to grade points and the calculus of getting into college, the other struggles every day to turn that loopy shoelace into some sort of tangle to hold him all day long.
one reads nabokov and sartre, philosophers and existentialists. the other asks each morning if i can help him fold the sports page, where he’ll inhale the itty-bitty numbers, the rise and fall of grown-up men who bang around a ball.
and so, the other evening as i looked up from washing dishes, i saw two boys at work, two boys with snacks and pages open wide, two boys whose worlds had momentarily aligned.
mind you, when you accidentally give birth eight years apart, when you did not set out to span a half a decade with your offspring, it is a fundamental truth of your wobbly existence that you find you live not in instant replay, with one child sliding out of diapers as the other storms the scene, but rather you dwell in time delay.
whole chapters start and end between boys 1 and 2. one has journeyed off to summer camp, barely sent a single postcard home, while the other holds your hand and toddles up to bed. one has started shaving while the other learns to squeeze the toothpaste on the brush without it splurting in the sink.
one sits at dinner talking emerson and frost, the other squirms and tries to feed the meatball to the cat.
only now, eight years into this experiment in dual children, are we discovering the joy of occasionally, rarely, unpredictably, dancing cheek-to-cheek.
or at least hearing strains of the same music.
it’s new enough around here that still it takes our breath away, when the little one for instance pipes in with his opinion on which college his brother might consider. or, adds a cogent thought to a discussion about iraq.
and vice versa, it is stunning for the bookish older one to weigh in on some football matchup, or to lament a limping quarterback.
who knew they ever tuned in to each other’s world? apparently, they’re listening.
and just as they randomly begin to bump into each other’s orbit, we look toward the summer after next, and realize once again we’ll be a dinner table of only three.
which makes these days ones to milk for all they’re worth.
we’ve finally got a pair of bookends who line up on a single shelf. one’s reaching beyond the elementary, the other’s wise enough to find a common ground. (and occasionally haul the little one on his lap for a boa-constrictor squeeze.)
in the days and weeks and months ahead, i’ll not tire of the moments when i catch the pas de deux of brothers deep at work discovering the joy of sharing the same page.
in fact, i’m standing ready with the apples and the pretzels to fuel their kitchen study hall.
where, with any blessed luck, they’ll look up from homework page to see a fellow traveler they’ll choose to spend their whole lives long coming home to.
or at least dialing long-distance.
i almost ditched this in midstream, but then decided to keep on writing. no universal theme here, except perhaps the joy of discovering a sibling is not merely someone who sits across the kitchen table a couple times a day, but rather a someone whose particular gene pool makes for soulful kinship. when did you discover the many gifts of a someone who shared your own last name?
pull up a chair 
I’m glad you finished it — it meant a lot to me. My mother had three children in four years … then nine years later … me. Growing up in a house of mostly adults meant I never got away with anything! It couldn’t have been easy for all the “original girls,” but they put up with me until I finally grew up. Now the age difference makes no difference, except that I still get to benefit from their wisdom and experience. I’m a very blessed sister.Growing up in your loving home gives your boys everything they need to have a solid brotherhood — you see it now — and you soak it up. They will have continually more electronic ways to stay in touch — probably by the time their our age, it will be looks-like-you’re-right-there video calls from their mobile device of choice! But it’s the foundation with which you are raising them that will stay solid and keep them together.
I have one brother, 5 years older. As he likes to explain, we were raised like 2 only children. I will admit to being a bratty liittle sister at times, and it’s fair to say our worlds collided more than they connected. Now as adults, I do see a side of him I never knew existed. I won’t say we’re like best friends, but we do get along, talk regularly, share stories, the usual sibling things. Interestingly enough, my middle and youngest are separated by 9 years. These things happen. :)) Like your two, Bam, they seemed miles apart from each other until just about the stage your sons are at now. Then it became a world of “boyness,” talking about sports, playing video games, sharing the details of their days with each other. I’m still amazed at how patient the older was hearing about grade school, and I was always elated that the younger one very seriously listened about the challenges of “growing up.” As adults, they are extremely close, talk often, and get along great. As Nancy pointed out, the age difference no longer matters. I’m happy to say the the middle son will be the youngest’s best man at his wedding in October. So, based on my experiences, I will say that with same sex siblings, age differences ultimately disappear.
When my oldest daughter learned I was was to have a baby when she was a junior in highschool, she lamented “By the time I go off to college, the baby will not even know how to say my name!” Of course, in my pregnant stage, this made me cry. Fast forward a not so fast 16 years. My son is 16 and my daughter is now a mother, age 32. I have two children inbetween these two, but these two are the closest. The youngest relishes his role as uncle, or “Super V” as he wants to be called. He has flown from IL to CA to visit. He cares for his nephew when the baby comes to town. You are right, the age difference disappears.
I sure do love this photo.
i sure do love it too…..and all of you for coming to tell your sibling tales. carol, i don’t think there are many tales to be told of sibs SIXTEEN years apart. you did indeed have to pairs of sibs with some serious space between. i love that oldest and youngest are closest….so so sweeet……
Are you sure you didn’t stage that photo? It’s just too, too cute. It’s that cheek, and it’s the matching hair, and it’s the mutual absorption in reading. I like that they’re facing each other too, although unaware of it.The other part that I love about this is the bright kitchen. Bright kitchens are the best kind.My own kids are almost five years apart, and in between the bickering they have moments of discovery that they actually like one another. The elder is tutoring the younger in the proper reading lists: of course, when the little one reads those books she has nightmares and ends up in mommy and daddy’s bed. So I tell him: she is not quite as old as you think. And it is really little different from when she was newborn and he wanted to push her in a swing. In that sense the age gap is awkward, but ultimately I think they each realize that who they have is each other, and it is okay. And when they are grown, the gap, and the awkwardness will be gone.
and i thought the photo alone was enough, but your beautiful verbal snapshot was stunning. glad you kept going with this one.