I met the three children in November 2012: older brother and unique, younger twin sisters. It was strange, really. I knew their mother back when I lived in Europe as a teenager, and got to see her and the kids for a couple of hours at most.
Apparently I made a bit of an impression on the kids in those few hours because one of the twins had a simple answer as to how they would get to see me more: I could marry her mother and sleep in her room, because it was the only one with enough space for me. A simple answer to a complex problem. Ignorance is bliss, apparently.
She was also most impressed that I could “make her fly,” which is essential in the life of a five-year-old. Back then I wondered when I would see the kids again, and hoped that I wouldn’t be too old and feeble to turn them into aeroplanes, or horseback riders on my knee, when I did get the chance.
A few weeks ago, over three years since I last saw them, I got to hang out with the trio again. This time we did even more together, including visiting a Second World War fort. I also had just enough strength and energy still to swing the twins about my head, especially “Gypsy” (the smaller of the two), fling them upside down and tickle them until they cried.
The night before I left, the family blessed me with a mountain of chocolate for my travels, and the two girls a letter each, decorated with kittens, princesses and pictures of me as a scarecrow. Their mother sent me this a few days later: “It’s funny how they talk about you as if “all of it” was normal … It’s normal that you live far away, normal that you come and then go, but they don’t like not knowing when they’ll see you again. It’s strange because it’s not as if we knew you well 😉 but you’re part of the family…”
True that. As true as it is with many other families around the world. If you asked me what I loved, what is “blissful” to me, it’s times like this.
For my own memories, here are some pics of the three.