The Art of Loving Your Family | Teen Ink

The Art of Loving Your Family

September 12, 2017
By Sophiagia SILVER, Wilmington, Massachusetts
Sophiagia SILVER, Wilmington, Massachusetts
7 articles 1 photo 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"With freedoms, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy"-Oscar Wilde


“Pancake!” yelled my younger brother, Shawn, as an unspecified parent moved towards us. At the sound of our codeword meaning “act like you’re asleep,” all four of us hid under our blankets and suppressed our bubbling laughter. A sliver of light appeared through the door, followed by an eye. None of us dared to investigate which adult was peering through the crack for risk of getting caught awake at midnight. We were aged seven through ten and nights this late were unheard of. Anxiously, we all listened  to the intruder’s  footsteps traveling away until we felt safe enough to resume our childish banter. Sleepless nights like these at my family’s condo were some of the most memorable bonding experiences of my life. At this one location in Newport, Rhode Island I made my three best friends who would be with me for life. Each of them are important to me in different ways, but one stands out in my memories of this particular location.

 

Chris, who is three months my senior, and I were inseparable during these trips. Despite the fact I was closer with his brother and he was closer with mine, we did everything together. One of our greatest joint accomplishments was successfully swimming to “The Rock.” This rock wasn’t just any other stone. It was the ultimate goal of ours to reach this shark painted protrusion in the center of our lake from the moment we saw it. All of our prior attempts were thwarted by our own feelings of fatigue and the cold water of the lake which seemed to reach your bones, and we would pause at the floating dock a portion of the way. One day was different, however. We started our journey with four children plunging into the ice water and my uncle climbing onto his raft to accompany us on our adventure. By the time we reached the dock, the two younger siblings clambered onto it, giving up due to  exhaustion from pushing their five year old bodies to the limit. Chris and I however, were full of enthusiasm and stayed the course to reach this rock. The immense sense of pride and accomplishment I felt when I lugged myself aboard the rock as my cousin did the same was more than I had ever experienced. My uncle took a picture of us and my family waved from the small beach. We shared a moment of pure elation before jumping onto the raft to be paddled back to shore.


This trend of our simultaneous success was almost unfailing. The one milestone Chris and I did not accomplish together was when we learned to ride bikes. My aunt took the training wheels off of her son’s bike and almost effortlessly he began to ride it. I was filled with feelings of betrayal and jealousy as he glided easily along the pavement peddling his heart out without me. I became determined to succeed as well. I knew I wasn’t ready. My mom knew I wasn’t ready. The rest of my family also knew, yet I was a stubborn child and with much effort convinced someone to remove the great restriction and embarrassment that training wheels are to a 6 year old. I began to pedal and attempted to balance myself to the best of my ability. Despite my efforts, I began to tip sideways and next thing I knew, my face had made contact with the hard black surface known as pavement. One tooth on the ground, another hanging by a string, and one more loose in my mouth, I sadly walked inside, acknowledging my cousins superiority over me, to yank out my other teeth. I won’t describe this experience as it was one of the bloodiest teeth pullings I have been part of, yet the feeling of respect for my cousin and embarrassment for my decisions is burned into my head.


Experiences like these are the ones that gave character to the old three bedroom condo. The smell of pine trees as you enter or the comfort of the giant sectional in the living room may be what’s noticed on the surface yet the real meaning lies deeper. My family and I looked forward to the weeks or weekends that we would spend together more than anything else. Fitting all nine of us in one small space was not an easy task yet the cramped quarters forced us to grow closer and make many memories we wouldn’t have otherwise made. Moments both inside the condo and on the surrounding property are some of my favorite childhood memories and have shaped me in a way that no other has.


The author's comments:

My cousins and I have always been close. So close that we often joke we are actually siblings.  In all of the years we spend together, we make a billion great memories. Here are a few to be shared with tou guys :)


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