Tuesday, February 23, 2010


I am really missing my brothers. They live far, far away (because of meager excuses like living where the US Air Force says they have to or attending college. Huh.). I am proud of them. I appreciate their service. I am impressed by the men they have grown into.

I miss them.

I miss their sense of humor(s). They are, collectively the funniest people I have ever known (and I include some professional commedians in that group). They are milk snortingly, side-splittingly, achingly funny. All of them. They are each different, but each hysterical. I miss that.

I miss their creativity. If you want the best easter-eggs or most creative jack-o-lanterns in the world--these are the guys you want. For story telling, magic tricks,the best birthday parties or guitar sing alongs--they are the guys. Sigh.

I miss the shared memories we have. Two of them are (for all practical purposes) the closest in age to me in the family. We (of course!) lived through some chunks of family history that either the others didn't, or that they were just to small to remember adequately. I just wish I had someone to reminisce with about those things--the dirt hills, Jerry-Don, The Log, the best sledding hill in the world, walking to the river to go fishing (pointlessly). Using the windows in the Wilford house as our own private doorways.

I miss their hands on practicality. They built an awesome clubhouse when they were under 12 years old (2 rooms, windows & a trapdoor--and full platform roof that was used as extra rooms). They could make whatever device was needed at the time, including a mechanism to shut out the light from across the room without getting out of bed (it involved fishing line, weights & pulleys, I recall).

I wish that my kids could have them as close by, hands on uncles. There are so many awesome uncle-y skills they have, that I (as a supremely uncool mother) lack. The words to all of those scout camp songs. All of the skits. Whittling skills. Stories of hiking through the Teton Peaks, of dancing in a Koshare Indian Dance troupe, of fencing (both kinds!). How to fix a bike--or fine tune it. How to play the guitar.

I miss their kids and their wives.

I am grateful for living in a time of easy communication, but that doesn't change the fact that I miss them.


  1. OMG! now i miss them too! Your whole family has been sutch an infuance in my life and while reading this a flood of fond memories has come apon me. Now that my sentiments are over, i will laugh wildly while pointing at Nathan's short shorts.

  2. Yeah...me too. Although we are lucky enough to have Uncle Evan around (or as he is known at our house, Eggun) we would like to have full access to all Uncles...

  3. Have you written down your memories of fun and laughter to share with your children? They will forget oral stories. You all sound like a special family.

  4. That was a heck of a build up, I hope I can live up to that! Also, you should send me the rest of the pirate party pictures because that was an epic event

  5. I miss pt I confess, right now I'm just curious about that picture of me. I have only a faint memory of the shirt (unusual, because I tend to keep strong memories of my clothes), no recollection of the picture (also unusual), and less than no recognition of the shades and the jeans (even more unusualler, because A) I have never liked jeans very much, and I've sworn off of them for five or six years now, and B)I wear shades less often than I wear jeans). Is this a picture of a previously unknown twin, or did I dress up as a mustacheless Magnum P.I. imitator for Halloween one year?