Time Warps by Kat Magendie

I just returned from a trip to Portland, Oregon, where I visited my son, and his girlfriend and her family, as well. My youngest brother joined us later in the week, and we all had a great time touring downtown Portland, the coastal areas, and the falls. I watched my son and his girlfriend and laughed to myself at how even though he is a man of almost twenty-nine, I still at times treat him as if he is a kid. Alternatively, I looked at Tommy and noticed the gray sprinkled in his hair; my younger brother can’t be aging! Neither can I!

When I say, “Be careful there, Daniel,” I catch myself and then say, “It’s just a Mom thing, don’t take it personally.”

Daniel laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, I know, Mom.”

And then in the next moment, my brother is teasing me and I’m calling out, “Stop ittttt…stop itttt….” and then poking him and teasing him in return, both of us laughing and falling all over the place like ten year olds.

There is this weird thing that happens when I am with Daniel and with Tommy, or one of my other brothers, all at the same time. I’m this grown up Mom, but I am also this big sister. Tommy and I joke around and talk about things we did or said or experienced as kids, and I can feel as if I’m a child again, but then, I see this child of mine who has grown into a man and I feel my age; further, I see the age descending on my brother and my faces and there is a strangeling feeling of time warps and worm holes and color and a black and white television and eight track versus i-pods and rotary dials versus i-phones…a kaleidoscope of time and space and family memories from both the cycle of my life and the cycle of my son’s life.

I came here to write this YOG about how grateful I was to be in Portland, to see how well Daniel and Sarah are doing building their lives, how nice it was to have Tommy join us, how the weather and people and circumstances all joined to make the trip Grand—well, then I guess that’s just what I have done, in my own strangeling way.