To the Eldest

Do you remember how we used to steal soda cans from the parents’ basement? Do you remember how they’d get mad at us and we’d just laugh like little kids popped up on sugar?

Do you remember that game we used to play in winter, when the wind drifts would pile the snow up in huge piles against the Millwood house? We’d hide behind the evergreens and, when we saw a car coming down the street, we’d try to make it to the snow bunker before the car passed the driveway?

The point of every game was to not get caught and you were always the mastermind. My partner in crime. I think the first time we got caught for something besides smuggling pop cans was when we went out on the frozen pond, the one near the trail that started at the end of the street, and one of the neighbors saw us. I guess they thought the ice was too thin.

Funny how things sorta stay the same, huh?

I have no idea how you’ve managed to engineer your way through all the obstacles in your adventures. You seemed to always have some big thrill in the works. You’ve been in some crazy situations. You’ve traveled to so many countries. You’ve lived abroad for years. How the hell did you figure all this out on your own?

I realize now, Cat, that there were some truly crazy, unendurable times back there, where you were looking for the very same support you’ve given me so reliably over the past couple years. You’re such a trailblazer there wasn’t anyone there to give you advice so you just had to figure it out on your own.

Ain’t it lonely being out front?

I wonder if you ever think about it that way, what you’re doing. Do you see yourself as a trailblazer, a pioneer, or just a person trying to fight through it all?

I picture it like this: You’re wading through tall, thick grass under a hot and hazy afternoon sun with a machete in your hand. You’re just hacking away at it, forging a path. Perhaps other people will see your path and divert from the mainstream and follow you. Who path did you follow, at first, before you branched out on your own?

Cat, you’ve inspired me to dream of my own fancy adventures and to jump in the deep end before I’ve learned how to swim. I’ve never had a better coach than you, teaching me how to maneuver and navigate through my crazy schemes. You’ve also always found a way to pluck me out of the water just when it feels like I’m heading down the drain.

Love,

Roman