My Nephew as I Grew Up

Keith Marston, far right, and Farrah and Chris Andersen, among my nephews and nieces at my wedding

My earliest memories include many of my nephew Keith Marston. Being just five years younger than me, and being that my brothers and sister were over 14 years older than me, I grew closest to Keith of the bunch.

HBO babysat me and him with my sister’s family some weekends. There were many Saturday mornings spent together on cartoons like Fraggle Rock or Mighty Mouse, or video games like Commodore’s Defender, Atari’s Pitfall (one and two) or Combat or Pinball, Frogger or Raiders of the Lost Ark, or soon after Nintendo’s Street Fighter series.

We kept care over the Millennium Falcon, Star Wars figurines, and G. I. Joe figures and vehicles as best we could until they were later sold. There was many a time when negotiations and combat taught us you couldn’t come back from the dead in imagination — unless it had been a long time for people to forget or for resurrection medicine to be used. And play money and valuable gold or gemstone artifacts were to be valued as they were marked, by the officiality of some shared overseer.

Hot wheels tracks and wooden blocks would dominate the linoleum play room. Math problems would be passed down from me to him in advance of any context, as would spellings and meanings of English’s written forms (not that it was unusual to know from being raised on it).

Twist and Rock got stuck in our heads, as did Corn Pops popping in our heads now. They Might Be Giants became a shared legacy. Novelty became the standard value. Posters decor for the ages.

Board games became bored games, and led to scavenger hunts and scavenging new games to try.

The years flew by and I entered a dark stage, and we grew a little more less wordy as we independently discovered life’s mysteries and matured.

The bonds are still there in the roots, where we shared the love of certain values, certain amazing wonders in the world, and the way of analyzing and thinking things through. Music still is a shared language. Tech and intellectual conversation sometimes flies in and out in our lives, and we are still drawn to learn, to explore, to grow.

My Nephew Keith on left, me (Donald Anderson) on the right

So many years pass faster as they go. Families grow and we almost forget how we got here. The love we have, continues in our lives in many ways.

God bless.

#ToDreamers

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Aspiring writer. Amateur philosopher and amateur writer of Apologetics (i.e., the Catholic reasonings). Faith-driven kindred spirit.

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Donald Anderson

Donald Anderson

Aspiring writer. Amateur philosopher and amateur writer of Apologetics (i.e., the Catholic reasonings). Faith-driven kindred spirit.

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