When I was younger I sometimes felt like I was in the shadow of my older brother and sister. Russ is a smart and talented and likeable guy — I told you, he’s probably a superhero! And my sister, Dodi, is beautiful and the life of the party and it feels like everybody loves her. They were both excellent tennis players who did well in school, and as I followed them through the ranks of High School and university (and didn’t quite have those tennis skills, mayhaps) I sometimes felt like a small fry in a Big Mac shadow.
“Little Dodi” or “Little Dot” or “Little Darrow” were common nicknames that followed me into my twenties. I’ve just realised you might not even know Darrow is my maiden name! Whoa! I can remember being little and laughing at my grandmother saying “Ru-Duh-Caroline!” as she struggled to finally arrive at the name she was looking for to call me.
I suppose without realising it I kind of stepped out of the Big Mac shadow when I left North Carolina. No one in Scotland seemed aware of my awesome older siblings (until they came to visit and were the life of the party again!) and since I was in my early twenties in a new country, I feel like it was a season of figuring out who I am, outside the box of where I’ve come from and whose I am.
Today someone emailed Mark and me an encouragement after receiving one of our ministry newsletters. (We send ’em out via email every month, so let me know if you’d like to receive them.) She ended by saying
“I’m so happy and proud of ‘Baby Darrow’ (and I’m not talking about cute Asher-ha!)”
For some reason, those words almost brought me to tears. Actually they did. They really did. Being away from home often means wishing someone was around who knows who you are. And whose you are. You wish you had some folks around who’ve known you for more than six months — people who remember that beat up Escort wagon you drove for your first car, and the guy you dated in high school that you probably shouldn’t have. You long for people who’ve walked up your driveaway (it’s up a hill) and sat at your Mama’s kitchen table. Because those things are such an integral part of you that you can’t fully explain, you can’t give them the pictures. They can’t see the Pamlico River at sunset or smell the Bill’s Hot Dogs you skipped school for. I told you I probably shouldn’t have dated that boy! They don’t know the trails where you rode your bike to the swimming pool every day all summer long, and they can’t hear the side door slam or the peaceful sound of cars passing on Christmas Eve while luminaries light up the streets around your neighbourhood.
But today, thanks to the amazing power of a few words typed in passing and whisked across the internet, a simple message from an old family friend meant for a moment I got to be Baby Darrow again. And I suddenly realised that’s a shadow I wish could follow me everywhere I go.
xCC
P.S. As I was finding a few pictures for this post, the Bear woke up from his nap and came to see what I was up to. He spotted a picture of Dodi and said, “Doe!” It’s good to think he’ll learn my shadow someday, and perhaps leave one of his own. And btw, photo credit for that lovely first shot belongs to Lindsay Lee Hartsell.
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Oh Caroline what a wonderful post. Before you even mentioed the path through Macswoods to the pool I had visions of us riding through Smallwood singing all the songs from the Lion King with our towels over our shoulders. I was talking about our old pool days just last week and how I hope Maddie can have that someday. Hope all is well…keep the inspiring posts coming! They always put a smil on my face.
Thanks so much Ashley! It is lovely just to have someone who knows what I’m talking about reading this! I miss riding bikes to the pool and singing and putting those funky hair wraps in each other’s hair! (I thought of that the other day when my hair dresser, a gentleman in his 50s who had been recommended by a lady at the mall had three long hair wraps hanging over his shoulder. Whoa.) I hope for those moments for the Bear too — I feel like I’ll have to go back to Washington for him to get them, and after all this time away I don’t think that would be so bad! 🙂
Oh, Caroline. I LOVED this post! I remember “the wagon!” And I have to say, that last picture, the one on your wedding day, you were in NO ONE’s shadow. My goodness, it took my breath away. You looked stunning!!!
So funny, Laura! I was just on your blog about the same time you were on mine! You little ones are picture perfect! Thanks for the encouragement! Missing home but thankful for life as it is! xoxo
Hi Caroline, I have just discovered your blog, and am very pleased to have done so! I am so very proud of you and what your family is doing for our Lord. I have put you on my prayer list. I have to say that from what I know about you, and see for myself, you are DEFINATELY casting your own shadow these days! I was present at your wedding, and am pleased to be a small part of ‘whose’ you are. Asher is a handsome little boy. May the Lord Richly Bless you and your family as you live for him, and do his will. Love and Prayers, Mary
PS Please put me on your mailing list!
Thanks so much Mary! I hope you are doing well. I haven’t spoken to Crystal in a few weeks, but I hope she’s okay too. Thanks for your prayers! We’ve added you to the newsletter list! 🙂 Lots of love!
ok first – add me to your newsletter list so I can get the updates and pray for you from your home state!!
second – I love your perspective on your rock star siblings, both when you were younger and how it’s changed now. 🙂
third — why can I still not see the “email me follow up comments” button. I mean, am I dumb? Blind? Can you see it on your end? WEIRD.
Erin! 1. I’m glad to “see” you! And 2. I have just discovered the issue! I need to download a plug-in which will allow people to check the little box to say they want to know if they want follow up comments. 3. I’m gonna do it RIGHT NOW! 4. Please forgive me for being a bit of a cotton-headed ninnymuggins. 🙂
I did it, Erin, I did it! Thanks for asking. I feel like a winner.
Caroline- I totally know what you mean. I felt the same way in Edinburgh sometimes- wanting to be around familiar people who really KNEW me and knew my history. For example, none of my friends in Scotland knew that I could sing. That was really weird for me because singing had always been such a big part of my life before, it was part of my IDENTITY. I felt like I had this hidden talent no one knew about- and that people didn’t really KNOW me because they had never heard me sing….
Somehow I heard through the grapevine that you could sing Melinda, but I was sorry I never got to hear you! Thanks for “validating” this strange feeling for me! It is weird and hard sometimes! 🙂
caroline, thank you. you’ve moved me to tears once again…..proverbs 25:25. much love to you all.
-grace
Gosh, Grace I have never understood that verse as much as I do these days. Sometimes when I hear from friends far away, I share it with them when I write them back! So true! Love to you — we miss you and the Edinburgh gang VERY much! Thanks for the love!