Milestones

At the gym this morning, I saw a television commercial featuring two young boys who were measuring themselves against a doorjamb - standing tall, trying to record each other's height with an uncooperative measuring tape that was bending in the wrong places and retracting at inopportune moments.

It brought back memories of my own children and how we measured height, first with a yardstick and later with a tape measure, marking it on a narrow wall in the kitchen.

Birthdays were always measuring dates, as were year-ends and the start of the school year. It was important to recognize those important times with a record.

As the boys' three-year age difference gradually meant reduced height disparity, they compared one another's marks and the older one noticed that his younger brother was catching up (now the younger one is a bit taller and both are over six feet tall). It was amazing how some measuring periods showed huge growth spurts of an inch or more, and some barely changed. It gave the older one status and the younger one something to shoot for.

It was so amusing to watch them puff out their chests and stand just as tall and straight as they could to get the highest mark. Then they would fight over who had grown the most and anything else they could find to argue over in the perpetual one-upping of adolescent and teen siblings.

Once one of them measured shorter than his mark for the previous period. This discovery produced outcry from the other, resulting in an argument and blaming the error on "cheating". A closer inspection of the heels against the floor was demanded for future measurements.

For years, the touch-up painting in the kitchen traced around the marks, preserving the record and providing a visible reminder of the memories.

A couple of years ago, I concluded it was time to paint over, and admitted that the wall would look better in a more pristine condition. As if begging to be preserved, the marks bled into the new paint, becoming an indelible remnant of childhood until I attacked with KILZ and painted again. I reached my goal but missed those marks.

I still grieve a bit for the vertical reminder of their achievements, and the other milestones that went along with the increased height and advancing ages.

The milestones are more serious now. College graduations, salaries, student loans paid down, cars and savings top the list. I miss my marks on the kitchen wall and the simpler days when milestones were lighthearted and induced giggling and playful squabbling.