Today (April 18th) is my little brother’s 59th birthday. Oy Vey! Between now and July, I am only 3 years older than Dave. Come July, I will be 4 years older. Our older brother Mike is 65. To those of you who are new to my blog, Mike is autistic, very low functioning and has never spoken. Most of my early blog entries (from January through November 2013) are exclusively about Mike and my efforts to communicate with him and relate to him.
Dave and I planted a maple tree in the back yard of the house in which we grew up. I don’t remember exactly when, but it must have been in the early 1970s.
Dad took this photo. If you look closely you can see me standing next to Dave, who is in the baby carriage.
On the day my parents moved out, Dave and I recreated the picture above.
We talked about how big it would be in the unimaginable future. We jokingly referred to how old we would be in the years following 1999. It seemed that the 20th century would go on forever. “Yeah,” I would say, “ in 2002 I’ll be 50 years old, ha ha ha,” as if it was impossible.
I tend to wax nostalgic on birth anniversaries. What could slake the nostalgic thirst better than a look at the current state of our maple tree 40+ years after we planted it? After all, it is the 21st century. I could see our tree from space.
I opened up the satellite map and zoomed in on our old address.
The maple tree was nowhere to be seen! Plus, they took out the dogwood tree in the front yard and the birdbath.
This is a street view of the front of our house, courtesy of those people who are mapping the planet street by street.
Sometimes it is better to keep one’s nostalgic notions rather than trying to confirm them and experience a splash of the cold water of reality.