Mt Shasta shrouded in clouds
In spite of the cold, our hearts were warmed by familial companionship, humorous reminiscences, and gallons of hot cocoa.
While I was at the Bottom Shelf a few months ago, I came across a book that I thought needed a special home, so I took it along to the family reunion with me and, during our talent show, took a moment to explain to my family the book's significance and purpose. It all began, I said, back in the early 1970s. My sister Diane had a teenage crush on the actor and singer Bobby Sherman. She found his picture in some fan magazine like Tiger Beat or 16, cut it out, and taped it to the wall of the bedroom we shared with Leah. The thing is, she taped it right near the entrance to the bathroom so that, even though from my side of the room I couldn't see most of my two sisters' lame stuff because of the long desk topped with decorative plastic dividers that delineated our separate territories, there was no way I could avoid seeing Bobby Sherman's face very time I went into the bathroom or out of the bedroom. It's not that I had anything personal against Bobby Sherman; I liked Here Come the Brides as much as the next young girl. But if you extended the line from the desk partition out to the baseboard, that Shermanified piece of wall between the bedroom door and the bathroom door was technically on my side of the room. Being not only a teenager but an older sister as well, I was affronted by this territorial breach. So I took what I thought was appropriate action. I got a black marking pen and drew concentric circles on Bobby's face so that he looked like a target, suitable for throwing darts at.
My sister was pretty upset. I don't know why. I thought it was hilarious. Later, of course, when I grew up and matured and began to see things from a more adult perspective, I still thought it was hilarious. But I also began to see her point of view. So, up at the reunion, during the talent show, I took a moment to apologize for my vandalization of Bobby Sherman's photo and gave Diane the book I'd found a few months earlier at the Shelf.
Everyone had a good laugh. Diane said she didn't even remember the incident. But I felt better within myself, so it was worth it for me. And she got a book that has been listed on eBay for $10 or more, so it's probably worth it for her.
As the weekend wore on, I began thinking of other mean things (intentional and accidental) I had done to my brothers and sisters in my rude and rebellious youth. And I began thinking of how I could sustain that worthy feeling of making amends and achieving inner peace in those other instances. For example, Bob, who had been learning karate, tried to teach me a bit of self defense one time and showed me how to flip someone who was coming at me. Then he had me try it. So I flipped him and he landed on his nose and bled on the living room carpet. I felt really bad. At the next reunion I could give him a book.
So many tantalizing choices
I'm sure there are other incidents in my past that are book-worthy. I'll have to give it some thought.