For my parents, who have given me everything.
"They do not love that do not show their love."
- William Shakespeare
There are revelations in life that can hit you at different times and retain its strength with every return; recently, I experienced one of these. No matter how many times I remember and forget, I am always humbled when I remember how being the oldest child is foundational to my character.
Birth order research is spotty at best. There used to be a large corpus of studies, but most of those seem to be scientifically dubious, and new research is taking baby steps for now. But the greatest part of introspection is that it doesn't have to rely on broad pictures of generalized trends; it comes from my own experience, with my most intimate subject: me.
There are claims that only children get more attention, more care, and maybe even more love from their parents. While time is limited, I believe that love is not. As the oldest child, I've had a unique vantage point as my family has grown. I went from being the hypothetically-favored only child, to a brother, to a leader, and now, as a married man, a bit of an outsider at times (but marriage is a topic for another day).
And I have loved every stage of life with my family.
My family - and me, myself - are far from perfect, but I love the ever-evolving dynamic with my siblings, and the constant friendship offered by my parents. I've learned that not everybody is friends with their parents, and I can't help but feel bad for those who aren't. My parents are some of my best friends, and they've taught me some of the most profound lessons of my life, through their examples.
For instance, my father's almost-solemn respect for women has given me a deep, in-bred sense of the same; that women inherently deserve respect and possess value. My mother demonstrated compassion and a willingness to forgive others. Above all, they forgave me again and again, as I made mistakes ranging from negligible to heart-rending. And I pray that I give them no more reason to shed tears over me, so long as we live.
My parents are fun, and usually relaxed. They've helped me develop a strong sense of independence and capability, which is something I kind of robbed them of when I was born; I stripped them of their independence and forced them to become more capable. I'm certain parents love all their children, but I suspect we share a special relationship, because I was born into special circumstances. I've never doubted that my parents would sacrifice anything for my well-being, because they've already given their lives to raising me, cut off in its prime.
Astoundingly, they continue to sacrifice, as they raise my eight younger siblings. While I've lived away from home for the last two, I treasure my time with them now, as I value the time I spent growing up with the others. It's funny looking back, how little some of my interests have changed when comparing them to the games we'd play: superheroes, Star Wars, and fantasy. With young siblings, I even have the excuse of reverting to those games on occasion. I think it was playing with my younger siblings that drove my desire to tell stories, and gave me a playground for flexing it. Some stories were constantly changing as we went out day by day, such as the never-ending drama of our "Superhero School", while others were honed and repeated almost ritualistically, year after year: every fall, my oldest youngest brother and I would play through my Lord of the Rings saga, battling with fallen tree branches and our imaginations. These games help me cut my teeth on providing meaningful roles for all of the participants, crafting simple stories that were also compelling, and the joy of throwing in a dramatic twist (this was always the most fun when we'd play Star Wars: a well-timed turn to the dark side can make a trusted ally a deadly enemy, to everybody's enjoyment).
"I don't mind no time spent to save me; just trying to be good to the people that raised me." There are some who might disapprove of my family's size, or my angel mother's decision to homeschool us. But I have never been let down by my family, and I have found that I have every tool I need in life. Those that my family didn't bequeath to me were obtained through skills my family taught me. And as I grow older, I feel a more keen desire to see them, to spend time with my siblings, and to be a part of all of their lives. The pain of missing out on small moments as they grow up is much like the pain you feel at a funeral: what if's, remember?'s, and I wish I could've seen's.
However, unlike a funeral, my family will always be there. Even when I lay my parents to rest, they will have left an untarnished legacy in their children, and in their children's children. And best of all, I have a firm hope that family does not cease, but that our bonds can endure even death. So while I may have passed the parts of life where I focused solely on pleasing my parents, then leading my siblings in play and at-home responsibilities, I still savor our relationship, because I know that it will last, and even if it doesn't remain the same -- well, neither do we. We grow, and we rejoice in that growth.
I think the biggest lesson being in a family has taught me is that when you give all of your heart, more comes back to you. After all, the heart's a muscle, and muscles grow the more they're exercised. Is there any more reason for life than to love more and be loved more?
