Memoir Monday

Imaginary Friends

I was the big sister. He would follow me around wherever I went. Sometimes it would drive me crazy, but mostly we were buddies. He was my best friend. We were born three years apart, but we were closer for it. I went first, came first, the blind big sister.
I hope to have a writing career. fiction writing specifically requires a high level of imagination, but growing up, out of the two of us he was the one with all the imagination. I admired that in him, from an early age.
A train, Kool -Aid lid, a circle with handles, a square…he couldn’t see me or the rest of the family and so he would say each of us was represented by an object, one of those concrete items he could touch and understand what it must look like. This was how he saw us in his mind, a boundless expanse I always wished to comprehend. He had a magic about him and I gravitated toward it.
We would spend hours playing, all sorts of childish games, acting out scenarios, skits, and scenes.
Janice, Banice, Bill and Monster Ace. Lots of children have imaginary friends, but not me. I would borrow his, would join in his games with these strange invisible friends.
“When I was a girl and sixteen, I burned myself on the stove.” Lines like this would pour out of my little brother and all listening would laugh out loud at what had just come out of his mouth. He was fairly silent for the first few years, but one day he came to life and suddenly had plenty to say. I was lucky enough to hear it all.
Slide down the glass,
Over the waterfall,
And open the door for James Bond and Gramma.
He was the one creating the stories and the worlds with characters galore. I envied this deep pool of imagination and he grew to be my hero, handling things he saw happen first to me. He could see his future, from age twelve on, and his imagination was needed more than ever to deal with what was to come.
Now he’s just turned twenty-seven and I don’t know where the time has gone. We are just as close as ever, reading each other like books. I miss those two little siblings and the fun and freedom they used to have. Our lack of sight brought us together. Our connection was cemented from those early days. It baffles me and surprises me every day. He will always be there for me and I him.