ode on a waterski pyramid

Taking on some challenging practices for Lent has really cut into my blogging time, and Whole30 still has my brain in a bit of a fog. Or maybe it’s just that I forgot how to meal plan and thinking about eating more than take-out has been occupying some mental space for me.

In any case, I had grand plans for writing about family for the BiS link-up this week. I had a bunch of ideas, like maybe I would compare the communion of saints to being in a family or maybe dig into some ideas of chosen-ness or beloved-ness (yes, I have been reading Henri Nouwen). I never pulled it together.

Ultimately, I just got my dad to text me this amazing picture:


In case you didn’t pick up on that, it is our Christmas card from Christmas 2005. Yes, my parents got two teenagers to base a pyramid for a photo op. Little Mimi was deeply into showing off her talents, so she was all in. My memories of this day revolve around being really and truly foul about 1. participating in this exercise and 2. being put on a Christmas card in swimwear for the second year in a row. At sixteen, I really wanted to be all dolled up for this card.

After I got the picture, my mom noted that there is “a lot of backstory here.” Her telling follows:

Boat was new. You were unwilling participant. Kevin was surly. Margaret was very cooperative and enjoying it. I was insistent. All worked hard to pull it off. Including boat driver and deck hand since there were many tries and picking up skis, sorting ropes etc.. We were all pumped when we got it.

She is right. Honestly, the card was fun. People STILL tell us how much they loved it, a decade later. We couldn’t recreate it today – my siblings are 6′ and 6’3″ now, and I’ve never been a climber… nor do I think they’d want to base a pyramid with me on top. It’s such a specific moment and memory.

Those shared moments are part of family relationships. I will never share time with someone else in my life like I have shared with my siblings. They are irreplaceable. I was talking with both my brother and sister last night, and I am so glad these are the two people with whom I share a path in life (and parents).

Like any family, we all (especially Kevin) know how to push each other’s buttons, but also know what the others need when struggling. I like to think I’ve moved beyond the time that I got so mad at Kevin that I punched the roof of my car, but not past my borderline obsession with them that made me want Kevin to participate in every ballet show I put on as a child or ignore my Bitty Baby to play with Margaret like a doll. (Even though Megan the Bitty Baby was a really good doll.)

Evidence of all of the above:

I mean… wouldn’t you want this little brother?

Well, those were both so cute… How about a few more of my favorite old photos of us:

Kevin looking wonderful; our old Christmas decorations making my mom cringe in retrospect.
Apparently quite ready for our own baby sister.
We are still pretty enthusiastic about her.
Who wants to bet he was just warned about her fontanelle?
Most tolerant baby.
Most tolerant baby.
How did this get in here?!
How did this get in here? Oops!

I especially like the ones where Kevin is poking Margaret in the head. And the puppy for good measure. It’s so sad that puppy is a real dog now.

Head over the the Blessed Is She Family link up for posts that are sure to be far more insightful than this one, though possibly with less adorable photos.


2 thoughts on “ode on a waterski pyramid

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