Security Blanket.

Sorry guys, this is going to be one of those posts that gushes about some really important people in my life: my siblings. I'm thinking about them hard core as my roommates and I and the remainder of the northeast prepare for this Hurricane Sandy [which I truly believe is going to amount to nothing, at least for our area]. Earlier tonight, as we were closing storm windows and gathering flashlights, batteries, candles, water and other essential supplies, I jokingly commented about how we were kind of 'camping out'. Mind you, I am no where near an outdoorsy, woodsy person. I slept outside twice in my entire life: once on my front lawn, once on a beach in Delaware that just so happened to be in record heat. Notsomuch my cup of tea.

All of this hurricane preparation got me thinking about how I would lead my siblings in camp outs. We would cover the entire family room with blankets and pull up my brothers "football tent" from the basement. It was a kiddie tent with every NFL team logo on it. We would stay up late [10 pm] and huddle together inside the tent [yes, all three of us would fit]  under layers and layers of more blankets, just giggling, being in each others presence. One of us was bound to twitch, which would spur on more giggles and maybe even tickling. Occasionally we would talk some nonsense or show some type of affection for one another, a goodnight hug or forehead kisses, and eventually we would all cozily and comfortably fall asleep.

Camping out was much different than just sharing a room with the sister. Sharing a room was sterile. We each had our own side, our own stuff, and our brother was all the way down the hall. Camping out, being surrounded by blankets and siblings [and knowing that mom and dad were upstairs to ward off any monsters] felt safe. It was secure. It felt like nothing in the world could harm us. 

What I wouldn't give for another one of those camp outs. To hear my brother giggle again in his little-boy voice, not his deep manly grunt.

Hurricane Sandy is coming, and although I feel safe, and although I love my roommates, there is a depth of security that is void in me: and it's not just because the hurricane is coming. It's a void that I walk around with everyday. It's times of trouble that draw attention to it; it's the lack of these two precious beings in my everyday life. And for some strange reason, I think I just figured out what a deeper sense of family is.

My spuradic memories jostled me to check out the depths of my external hard drive. This is what I was able to find. I'm laying here now, cuddled up under three blankets. Though none of the images I could find really capture the age range I'm specifically remembering (I'm talking when I was about 8 and the bro was 4), simply looking at these pictures brings me a warmth as this cold front is moving in, colliding with Sandy. It's a deeper warmth than just the blankets could provide; it's a heart warmth.

2004

2009

2011

2011...a better representation.