There seems to be a unity between members of a specific generation. I see it in my parents and all their siblings. They sit around a coffee table and just talk, as if it’s as simple as dialing a phone. I can never be a part of this. I’m too busy being with my own siblings and cousins. We’ve shared memories together, and feel more comfortable that way. I think it’s the same with all of our parents. They’ve had each other their whole lives. We’ve only had them for a part of it. We only know the part of them that we’ve seen when we were alive. They’ve seen our whole lives for themselves, but it never works the other way. Who knows what we don’t know? That’s why there’s always a bit of a distance between generations, and unity within them.
But lately, the unity amongst my brother and sister and cousins and me has begun to evaporate. Despite the fact that we see each other over and over again every year, we’ve all become our own people. It’s no longer the days where all you needed was a playground and suddenly you were best friends. We’re all wrapped up in our own stuff; me in my writing, Anna in her dancing, Zach in sports, Sarah in art, and Alex in music. Even when we share blood, our lack of common interests continues to slowly split us apart.
What I wouldn’t give for at least one more time when we could all have fun doing something together, just like the good old days.
I got what I wanted around Halloween, nearly a year ago. It was Hannah and Jack’s birthdays. I had been assigned to videotape everything the two toddlers did. It was fun to watch them frolicking with all their friends, getting their faces painted and everything, but my mind was plagued with that same empty feeling of nostalgia. I was having quite a bit of difficulty shoving my head and camera inside the bounce chamber to tape Jack. He was having a blast jumping two feet in the air, emitting wild shrieks of laughter.
The party began to die down, and soon all of the kids had gone home. It was just me and my generation. I don’t know how, but soon we were all inside that stupid little bounce chamber, our shoes off, kicking a kickball back and forth and laughing our hearts out. It was even funny when someone was hit in the face with the ball. We must have looked pretty stupid, but we didn’t care. To hell with dignity. To hell with acting my age. We were all there. Eric, Anna, Zach, Alex, and Sarah, together, having fun, being one big happy generation.
As Hannah and Jack looked at us, and laughed just because we were laughing too, I knew that this group of wild kids, who were still growing up, would always be together to share and make memories, no matter how much time went by. Soon we would all grow up, get jobs, and one day sit around a coffee table just talking, while all of our own children played foosball in the basement and talked about how weird their parents were. Now that’s a generation I can’t wait to see. But will they know us?