I remember when I was six. It was hot
upstairs. You could feel the Utah sun through the wooden roof. Nate and I would
play Legos and I would sing until my voice got sore. I remember when I was
eight. It was so cold and I was wearing a T-shirt. I huddled over the vent with
Sam, trapping the heat with a blanket. I remember when I was 14. It was
Christmas Eve and Sam and Tim and I were pretending that nothing existed
outside our fan fort. Encyclopedia Britannicas held down the bedsheet, marking
the edge of our universe. The sound of our voice through the box fan, the sound
of the smooth electric motor created a chrysalis that we were outgrowing. But we
had a whole night to sleep and as long as the brown books didn’t let the sheet
slip we couldn’t feel the wind that was holding our world up.
It
is a special treasure to have a best friend in your family. I know no greater
happiness than to see my children love each other. Since we have been here in
France they have become each other’s best friends. Maybe it would have happened
without the language barrier slimming down the pool of potential playmates, but I think it helped them appreciate each other. They welcome Caspian into their circle and even though he is a baby, I think he knows he has a place in their fan fort. I’m grateful they have become so close. Here are some pictures of them and a few of their mutual creations from the
last couple months.
