I remember when I was six. It was hot upstairs. You could feel the Utah sun through the wooden roof. Nate and I would play Legos and I would sing until my voice got sore. I remember when I was eight. It was so cold and I was wearing a T-shirt. I huddled over the vent with Sam, trapping the heat with a blanket. I remember when I was 14. It was Christmas Eve and Sam and Tim and I were pretending that nothing existed outside our fan fort. Encyclopedia Britannicas held down the bedsheet, marking the edge of our universe. The sound of our voice through the box fan, the sound of the smooth electric motor created a chrysalis that we were outgrowing. But we had a whole night to sleep and as long as the brown books didn’t let the sheet slip we couldn’t feel the wind that was holding our world up.
It is a special treasure to have a best friend in your family. I know no greater happiness than to see my children love each other. Since we have been here in France they have become each other’s best friends. Maybe it would have happened without the language barrier slimming down the pool of potential playmates, but I think it helped them appreciate each other. They welcome Caspian into their circle and even though he is a baby, I think he knows he has a place in their fan fort. I’m grateful they have become so close. Here are some pictures of them and a few of their mutual creations from the last couple months.