![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Memory is a funny thing.
Vaguely apropos of a discussion I've been following on Tumblr, I asked Vicky tonight if she remembered when we switched from calling our parents Mommy and Daddy to calling them Mom and Dad. I was fairly sure it happened sometime between my eight and tenth birthdays, but I couldn't pin it down more specifically. Vicky was slightly more definite, and said she thought it happened in the fall of her first grade year, which would make her six and me nine. So far, all in agreement.
But what we remember around that incident is radically different. I remember that shortly before we made that choice, Mom told us a story about how one of her brothers (our Uncle Charles) decided that their family should switch to calling their parents Mom and Dad because it sounded much more mature (and/or cool). Vicky does not remember that. What she remembers is the conversation in which we made our decision, which happened at night, at my instigation, while we were ostensibly 'sleeping' in our bunk beds. I do not remember that.
( and now a bunch of tl;dr rambling )
...
I think I had more of a point when I started writing this, but oh well.
In summary, memory is weird, sibling relationships are weird, personal space is weird, and I am glad that Vicky and I learned how NOT to have screaming knock-down fights as we got older. We were always very close, but over the years we consciously chose to like each other as well as love each other. And I am very grateful for that.
(I am also grateful for our parents, who were not perfect -- nobody is -- but who I think did a pretty good job all things considered.)
Vaguely apropos of a discussion I've been following on Tumblr, I asked Vicky tonight if she remembered when we switched from calling our parents Mommy and Daddy to calling them Mom and Dad. I was fairly sure it happened sometime between my eight and tenth birthdays, but I couldn't pin it down more specifically. Vicky was slightly more definite, and said she thought it happened in the fall of her first grade year, which would make her six and me nine. So far, all in agreement.
But what we remember around that incident is radically different. I remember that shortly before we made that choice, Mom told us a story about how one of her brothers (our Uncle Charles) decided that their family should switch to calling their parents Mom and Dad because it sounded much more mature (and/or cool). Vicky does not remember that. What she remembers is the conversation in which we made our decision, which happened at night, at my instigation, while we were ostensibly 'sleeping' in our bunk beds. I do not remember that.
( and now a bunch of tl;dr rambling )
...
I think I had more of a point when I started writing this, but oh well.
In summary, memory is weird, sibling relationships are weird, personal space is weird, and I am glad that Vicky and I learned how NOT to have screaming knock-down fights as we got older. We were always very close, but over the years we consciously chose to like each other as well as love each other. And I am very grateful for that.
(I am also grateful for our parents, who were not perfect -- nobody is -- but who I think did a pretty good job all things considered.)
