I grew up in Minnesota with a sister who was five years older than me, a mother who regarded me as an accessory, and a dad who traveled for business.
And then we moved to Maryland, but our new home wasn’t friendly like the Midwest.
As far has having a sister went, the age gap was wide enough that after about my eighth or ninth birthday, she wasn’t around much.
As I got older, I had friends who came from big families and I longed for having that kind of lively energy in the house.
But at least I had my imaginary friends–real characters who spoke in narrative voices and played out stories, both in books and imagined books.
These early experiences shaped me as a writer. I spend a lot of time alone. And that’s okay. Now.
But when I was a first-time mother, I didn’t think growing up alone would be so great for my son. I wanted him to have at least one sibling. More would be better.
Apparently, my toddler was on board with the plan–while saying bedtime prayers one night, he added, “God, I want my two brothers.”
A year later, I had a tubal pregnancy and was told I may not be able to have more children.
Over the next six years and two sons later, prayers were answered. I can’t help but feel the boys all knew each other beforehand in heaven.
And then my father, who was a musician himself, came to live with us for his final years on earth.
And my best friend needed a place to live for a few.
And my oldest son’s friend (another musician) whose own mother kicked him out of the house and whose father was in a Thailand prison–yes, he came to live with us as well.
And now I had the household I once dreamed of–one bursting with people.
My home is a bit quieter now. My father passed away. My friend moved out. My son’s friend moved on.
But through it all, my boys have had each other. And yet, they are also loners. Loners who are not lonely, but rather young men who march to the beat of their own drums.
- One is an HVAC apprentice and busy musician.
- Another a computer scientist and entrepreneur.
- And yet another an actor and singer and student and aspiring pastor.
I’ve come to realize the rich blessing God gives those people who see the world through different eyes. Especially when that blessing is accompanied by a quiet strength of character and a strong backbone.
We come into this world alone. We leave this world alone. What we do between the opening and closing of the curtain is up to us.
God bless the writers, artists, musicians, players and loners. And God bless you and yours.
Susan J. Anderson
Foxy Writer Chick