I was eleven in 1999. My brother was nine and my sister was almost four.
I don't think it was the first year that my mother let us stay up for New Year's Eve, but it was one of the first years she let us.
Y2K was everywhere. It was the new Communist scare; the newest trend in fear. We were going to be set back from the technological age.
For me it was exciting. I have always dreamed that we would be forced back in time. It is an idea that I've tried to write about too. I love history so much that it made me think that we would start dressing like we did in the 1800's again, start speaking properly and acting like we were civilized. Much to my chagrin, that isn't what would've actually happened if technology had been decimated.
On this particular New Year's Eve, on the brink of a new millenia, my brother and I were staying up for midnight. Hannah had already been put to bed, mostly against her will as she had wanted to be a big girl and stay up too. She fell asleep shortly before ten and I carried her to our shared bedroom. Chris and I hadn't fully decided what we wanted to do.
If I recall correctly, we played some records before we decided to watch a movie.
Of course our first choice was "Much Ado About Nothing."
My mother has always been very eclectic in her tastes (which is where I got it!) and her love of classical things is what influenced me in my love for the same. Shakespeare was one of my first loves. Elvis came first, though.
Anywho, this was one of our favorite films. It still is. So we watched that. That killed some time, but not enough for midnight.
It was around this time that Ivan, a dear family friend, called to wish us Happy New Year. I told him that Mom had gone to bed with a migraine and that Chris and I were watching Shakespeare movies until midnight. He offered to come over and watch movies with us. And bring pizza.
When he arrived we decided to watch "Henry V."
Which, in case you didn't know, is a war movie. It is one of the only war movies I enjoy, because it is Shakespeare in all his glory. And Kenneth Branagh. That helps too... Because it is a war movie, that automatically means that it is bloody. As in VERY bloody. Nothing like blood and pizza on the brink of what was supposed to be the Technological Apocalypse, right?
Anyway, Ivan kept covering his. He isn't fond of blood and gore. Neither am I, usually, but for this particular movie I make an exception. Did I mention Kenneth Branagh is in it? I did? Oh, well it bears repeating... Hmm.... *drools* I mean, what? Where was I? Oh right, the movie.
So, Chris and I, being terrible children, kept teasing Ivan and telling him that the blood was gone. Of course he would peep out from between his fingers and see there was still plenty of blood on the screen and cover them back up. And we would giggle like it was the funniest thing ever. Which, at the time, it was.
I don't know why, but I've been thinking about this particular memory a lot lately. Nostalgia in my old age? Who knows.
I miss those times. I miss believing that everything was going to be fine. I miss believing that we were all going to make it somehow. I miss being closer to my sister. I miss having a family.
I still have a family, but it feels different. It has changed so much from the family it used to be. We are still Debra, Sarai, Chris and Hannah. But we are different. We are much changed from the people we used to be. Sometimes I don't think we are changed for the better.
Sometimes I miss living in that little blue trailer, in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by fields full of alfalfa and woods that held such beautiful mysteries. I miss riding my bike up and down that gravel road. I miss our dogs. I miss my knitting lessons and sneaking peeks of naughty movies while babysitting. I miss sharing a room with my baby sister, with an old and tattered poster of a Degas ballerina. I miss listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the record player. I even miss listening to old sermon tapes.
I miss the deer heads and the mounted fish. I miss fishing and playing in the snow.
I miss making homemade pizza with my mom. I miss playing chess with my brother. I miss reading to my mom.
What I miss most is what you can see in these pictures...
I miss what we used to be, when we were happy. Not when we were fighting, not when we were being abused, not when we were miserable. I miss those sparkling moments that linger in my memory where we were happy and we were a family.
I don't think it was the first year that my mother let us stay up for New Year's Eve, but it was one of the first years she let us.
Y2K was everywhere. It was the new Communist scare; the newest trend in fear. We were going to be set back from the technological age.
For me it was exciting. I have always dreamed that we would be forced back in time. It is an idea that I've tried to write about too. I love history so much that it made me think that we would start dressing like we did in the 1800's again, start speaking properly and acting like we were civilized. Much to my chagrin, that isn't what would've actually happened if technology had been decimated.
On this particular New Year's Eve, on the brink of a new millenia, my brother and I were staying up for midnight. Hannah had already been put to bed, mostly against her will as she had wanted to be a big girl and stay up too. She fell asleep shortly before ten and I carried her to our shared bedroom. Chris and I hadn't fully decided what we wanted to do.
If I recall correctly, we played some records before we decided to watch a movie.
Of course our first choice was "Much Ado About Nothing."
My mother has always been very eclectic in her tastes (which is where I got it!) and her love of classical things is what influenced me in my love for the same. Shakespeare was one of my first loves. Elvis came first, though.
Anywho, this was one of our favorite films. It still is. So we watched that. That killed some time, but not enough for midnight.
It was around this time that Ivan, a dear family friend, called to wish us Happy New Year. I told him that Mom had gone to bed with a migraine and that Chris and I were watching Shakespeare movies until midnight. He offered to come over and watch movies with us. And bring pizza.
When he arrived we decided to watch "Henry V."
Which, in case you didn't know, is a war movie. It is one of the only war movies I enjoy, because it is Shakespeare in all his glory. And Kenneth Branagh. That helps too... Because it is a war movie, that automatically means that it is bloody. As in VERY bloody. Nothing like blood and pizza on the brink of what was supposed to be the Technological Apocalypse, right?
Anyway, Ivan kept covering his. He isn't fond of blood and gore. Neither am I, usually, but for this particular movie I make an exception. Did I mention Kenneth Branagh is in it? I did? Oh, well it bears repeating... Hmm.... *drools* I mean, what? Where was I? Oh right, the movie.
So, Chris and I, being terrible children, kept teasing Ivan and telling him that the blood was gone. Of course he would peep out from between his fingers and see there was still plenty of blood on the screen and cover them back up. And we would giggle like it was the funniest thing ever. Which, at the time, it was.
I don't know why, but I've been thinking about this particular memory a lot lately. Nostalgia in my old age? Who knows.
I miss those times. I miss believing that everything was going to be fine. I miss believing that we were all going to make it somehow. I miss being closer to my sister. I miss having a family.
I still have a family, but it feels different. It has changed so much from the family it used to be. We are still Debra, Sarai, Chris and Hannah. But we are different. We are much changed from the people we used to be. Sometimes I don't think we are changed for the better.
Sometimes I miss living in that little blue trailer, in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by fields full of alfalfa and woods that held such beautiful mysteries. I miss riding my bike up and down that gravel road. I miss our dogs. I miss my knitting lessons and sneaking peeks of naughty movies while babysitting. I miss sharing a room with my baby sister, with an old and tattered poster of a Degas ballerina. I miss listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the record player. I even miss listening to old sermon tapes.
I miss the deer heads and the mounted fish. I miss fishing and playing in the snow.
I miss making homemade pizza with my mom. I miss playing chess with my brother. I miss reading to my mom.
What I miss most is what you can see in these pictures...
I miss what we used to be, when we were happy. Not when we were fighting, not when we were being abused, not when we were miserable. I miss those sparkling moments that linger in my memory where we were happy and we were a family.
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