Today we were reintroduced to baby parenting. Seemed like a hundred times I thought, oh yeah, burping, done this before or something similar as I helped Erin with Amelia. But one big difference: when Madelyn was born, I didn’t have another child to think about. And today as I was running errands, canceling appointments, singing to Amelia, and such, I kept thinking about Madelyn (who is staying with our neighbors). Our first girl.
This afternoon I stopped by the house to grab a few things for Erin, and found a package on the porch for Madelyn from her uncle Curtis. My brother. My friend. And I sat down on the porch and remembered a phone call from March 1974. One of my first memories, probably degraded to a memory of a memory at this point, of my dad calling from the hospital, and excitedly saying, You’ve got a little brother. And then sharing holidays, arguments, common enemies, and bike races. Two car accidents. Fighting over toys, leftovers, and darn near everything. Plotting against Mom and Dad. Pickup football. A few trips to the hospital for stitches. High school. College. More pickup football, beer runs, weekends. Meeting for holidays. Two weddings. Working on each others’ houses. Grieving together. Moving farther apart. And now nieces and daughters.