Happy Birthday, Megan!

Today is my sister Megan’s birthday. It isn’t as big a deal as it was last year when I had to surrender the $20 I’d wagered a decade earlier that she would be obese by her thirtieth birthday. This year merely added a digit and maybe a few lines to her face (note: as first born it is my job to gently torment. Besides, the relationship is reciprocal).

This past summer has been the best of my life. I’ve spent the last three months absorbed in nudging my dreams to truth and, for the first time ever, enjoying the freedom of the year’s longest days alongside my wife and children.

One of the best things about summer was our frequent adventuring. Each day, somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, I would step away from the desk and the four of us would head out for our scheduled activity. Several times this summer our trips included Megan.

From our handful of expeditions, I think I enjoyed our trip to the tide pools the most. We crossed the Vincent Thomas Bridge out of Long Beach and into one of my favorite drives in the world, winding along the edge of the Pacific, just beneath the bluffs of Palos Verdes, where I have vowed to dock my ship when it eventually comes in.

Though a recent oil spill had swallowed nearly all the usual sea life – it was still fun to hop from rock to rock and see how far out to sea I could go. I hopped as far as I could, which turned out to be where the rocks stopped and the liquid road to Hawaii started. I stood parallel to a fishing boat and stared back at the shore, watching my sister strolling along with Cindy and the children.

Memories of my childhood rolled and crashed like waves upon the beach.

Though Megan is endlessly hysterical and breezy to be with, I believe it was those moments of fractured reflection that truly meant the most to me. Max and Mia LOVE their aunt. They respect her and appreciate that she speaks to them, not as small children who do not understand the world around them, but as developing people who are trying to breathe it all in, one experience at a time.

My sister and I did not always get along as children, mostly by my design, and I think we both look on Max and Mia in wonder. They truly are the best of friends and it is remarkable to see in them already what it took the two of us a couple of decades to find.

Both children tend to show their best side around her and I love to see the admiration dancing in her eyes. Megan has no children, nor does she plan to. She is one of those rare, intelligent creatures who is fairly sure of what she wants from life and is unwilling to drag an innocent child into even the slightest bit of indecision.

Her wonder makes me aware, gently reminding me to never fade in or out and to always see my children as others do. Though she may not ever be a mother, I’m quite certain she would make a wonderful one.

Megan is also wonderfully artistic. Creativity sank its teeth into me just recently, but Megan has been harvesting artifacts from the right side of her brain for most of her life. We spent many years working side by side in our family flower shop where I saw her skills move from, “That’s so beautiful I want to cry,” to “Will someone please get me a tissue?”

Our family store has closed and Megan has opened her own Long Beach wedding flowers studio. Her work is stunning and she did all the web design herself. Like her brother, she prefers lots on her plate and also has her own line of rather amazing hand printed greeting cards. Unlike her brother, who desires a system to streamline everything, she is quite content to do things the old fashioned way, taking the time to make sure that everything is as beautiful as she is.

Happy Birthday, Megan. I love you and am looking forward to our donuts this morning!

Writer Bro

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