Then You Were.

I was an only child, and then Eames was born. That was the beginning of my lucid memories. I was no longer going to be alone. A counterpart was coming for me.

The night of May 12, 1985, when mom woke me up in my toddler sleep (it was kind of her to do this, so my next morning was less confusing), it was like I woke up from the daze that defined my first 2.7 years on Earth. I was no longer alone, which meant I had better start remembering things.

Most of my memories from Coronado are the result of photographs, but I do remember games and punishments. My favorite games were Volcano and the one when mom and dad tossed us in a sheet. Wild. Loved those games. And I loved Oreos and wandering out to see my friends - those were the things that got me in trouble. I don't think it was ever necessary for an authority figure to shame me. Any ounce of that scarred me, and distracted me from the simple parental disappointment that would unfailingly reroute my disobedient impulses. I think I should consider that when parenting and friending... shaming is completely counterproductive for some. Most? All?

But lucky for me, 9.9 out of 10 memories from Coronado were bliss. That being a happy child on an island kind of bliss. Until we moved. Then... it was that being a happy child on a farm kind of bliss. With two more rascally brothers to come.

Last year, I got a new partner in life. Not a brother this time, but a husband. Not that I was in a daze my first 32 years on Earth leading up to that event, (No, I was more alive than I can fathom when I really stop and think about it.), but I do feel fundamentally less alone than ever. The shift makes me insatiably curious to learn how my experience of the world will be different now than it was before. Different like life before having brothers seemed like nothing once they came along. Another chapter. Or is it a sequel? Or the first pages following a prologue? Or maybe... it's the screenplay based on a best seller? Time to stop while I'm ahead.

The point is, it is good to share life with someone. Whoever that is. And the other point, things change. In big ways. That is life.