It’s my younger brother Gordon’s birthday, and although our roots are in Finland we’ve been called Irish twins due to our birthdates just 14 months apart, to the day: June 25 for him, April 25 for me.  

Trying to iron out our differences since toddlerhood

We do have twins in the family: Karen and Dennis, four years younger than Gordie. Of the five kids, it was Gordie and I who tended to clash on just about everything. The childhood drama and sibling rivalry finally tapered off a bit during our years at the University of Detroit, which we attended together (one year apart). 

We’re just different. He’s left brain and I’m right (although he’d argue that he’s right. Sorry, couldn’t help myself). He played brass and I, clarinet. He studied engineering and I was in media studies. He succeeded in a big time corporate-type job while I, after working in communications for a non-profit, eventually went the freelance writing route. He golfed while I gardened. 

Even our birthday party hats were different. 

While the rest of us had parties at home with friends and balloons and Mom’s cake with buttercream frosting and pin the tail on the donkey and drop the clothespin in the bottle games and cone shaped party hats, Gordie did not. At least, not on his actual birth date.

After all, June 25 is prime summer travel time, and each year our family headed north for our vacation with cousins across the Upper Peninsula. There’s a photo somewhere of Gordie and our gang at his celebratory picnic at a UP park, with a chocolate cake. The birthday boy is wearing a pith helmet that Mom gave him because he was always traveling on his big day.

Gordie did have the more traditional gatherings at home with his pals, and maybe there wasn’t a birthday safari every year. 

I’m not worried; if my fuzzy memory serves me wrong, I know one person I can count on to correct me. Happy Birthday, Gordie. Love you!

Happy US-2 Birthday to You!

Paused for a picnic along US-2, when Gordie turned 8: I’m looking back at the Mackinac Bridge, as is (late) brother John; Dad, in the groovy shades, is telling Mom, “come on, take this picture.” Gordie is in the hot plaid shirt looking for his birthday presents, and twins Karen and Dennis are the good kids trying to help Mom with her family portrait.

One of our family’s UP picnic stops was a short drive west of St. Ignace at the Hiawatha National Forest Recreation Area. The bluff overlooking Lake Michigan seemed so high back then. I pull in once in a while at the spot where we (sort of) posed for Mom to snap a photo. 

The towering bluff I remember climbing as a kid has either been worn down over these several decades or my perspective has changed. The dune is about the same height as our splatter painted van.

But birthdays are good for providing a little perspective.  Cheers!