Being First is Not Always Best! (Audible)
We know what’s it’s like being the last in line. You know, you normally get the leftovers of everything. The last of the buffet line, the last in a long line of hand me down clothes, the last to read a passed around book…
So, we’ve trained ourselves to think about getting to the head of the line, getting enough of our favorite food before other fingers touch the implements or dip into the shrimp, having the first wearing experience of the clothes before they get passed, and the first to read the crisp new pages of the book.
Being the oldest sibling in my family, I learned what it was like to be the one most watched over … because I was first. I think it’s true for all parents, you guard that first one closely until the others come along. Then it’s all old hat stuff and you can let loose the reigns a little. I have a friend who is one of 16 kids… Imagine how quickly the reigns would be let loose in that family!
Along with not being allowed to test the waters of walking barefoot on an icy morning until mom’s frustration finally told me to do what I want, I got to try something long before the younger ones thought it was cool to try! Literally cool…. It didn’t last that long, but to this day I still enjoy stepping out on the ice and snow, barefooted, or at least with no socks, and recall that first time in Seabrook, Texas… back in 1961…
I was the first to have surgery. Hernia. Right before the 8th grade, and I missed 4 weeks of school. I was the first to have crutches because I tore out my knee on a vacation trip to Kentucky. Right before Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, bang! There goes the knee! I was probably the first to get stitches, at least in my memory banks no one else found the hole in the middle of the road on a dark night while riding home with a coke and candy bar for mom because she had a headache! This was in the 9th grade. Dr. Howard was thankful for a late night emergency because he was having to babysit… Tidelands Hospital. Channelview, Texas.
I was the first to move out. Long story short, it was as sweet as it was driving my first day legally with a Texas Drivers License in my wallet. I still remember that ID number. 7768415
Along the way, the taste of being first is the burden of having to try things long before anyone else gets to. Like an explorer, being first allows you to test the waters and woods for danger along the path of discovery. Vaughn and I were so close in age, a lot of my first included him experiencing our first swimming lessons, tool boxes, shotguns, and hunting experiences together! While I have vague memories of Vaughn’s birth time, I remember Ken and Teresa better. I would have been in my Terrible Two’s about the time Ken was born, and Teresa would have been born when Vaughn would have been in his Terrible Twos! It’s a mess when you have 4 kids experiencing their first every year… Imagine when we were all teenagers at the same time!
Ah…being first, though. The first to ride the go-kart down the highway in Ace, Texas… Or the Honda Trail Bike…to Lake Houston on the back roads because it was street legal – not long before my driver’s license were in hand. The first to date, drive to the D&L Grocery store without a license, again! Maybe the first to try water skiing, but not necessarily the first as successfully being pulled behind Granddad’s boat on Lake Murvaul. Probably the first to get a Cub Scouting badge, or own a pocket knife, or building my first model car…
Being first! Some of the best memories! Still. I do remember some first things with a negative memory!
Being first is not always best when you have to try things at the dinner table. I remember pouting and not touching carrot salad with raisins. We were living in Deer Park, Texas and for some reason, it was touted as better than sliced bread! Or later, we were inundated with pears and mom loved this pear concoction that included mayo, and a maraschino cherry on a half pear resting on a bed of lettuce. Give me pear butter any day! The first to try all those green leafy vegetables, you know, spinach, collard greens, mustard greens, and I’m sure some Polk salad was thrown in there for good measure. It’s a different story today, but being first then meant having to stomach a lot of things you thought unworthy of your palette. Hmmm. And digging some sassafras root up to make some Sassafras Tea. Never again!
Another positive memory about being first was always trying to do your best because of the younger siblings behind you. We were all born at the same hospital in Baytown, Texas. Only, I was first. By the time my sister came as the last of four, I’m sure mom and dad were old hands at the hallways of birth!
Being first meant that your siblings watched what you did, how you reacted and could choose their pathway with an enlightened example. Being first probably made me more careful with my life and choices, but in many ways, it made my direction safer.
I was always aware of my position.
There is something to say about not being first. I’ve watched my siblings expand and do things that I’ve never done, go places I’ve only dreamed about, and have experiences that can make you a little jealous. Someone noted to me the other day that they finally understood who I was related to… I got to stop the connection machine and point out, “No. They are all related to me. I was first!”
So, here we go into the annals of history. We are on the last entering the age of the 60’s. My sister is truly in her 60th year, although she hasn’t reached her 60th birth day yet… It’s coming. Mom and dad, did you ever think we would all age together like this?
I love my family and am proud of all their accomplishments! Social media has made it easier to stay connected and I get to watch everything from afar. It’s true, my siblings are all in Texas right now. We’ll see them this fall, but for the moment the distance is about perfect. At least I have mountains to look at! First thing this morning!