As some of you might know, I was born 31 years, 8 months,
and 12 days ago, but this post isn’t about me.
That’s not what’s special about today.
Today, my big brother turned 33.
I don’t even know where to begin when talking about my older
brother. I try to explain him to people,
but I never feel as though I get it right.
Truth be told, there’s a lot that I don’t know about him. We hardly ever see each other, we don’t hang around
the same crowd, and we are just about polar opposites. I say “just about” because there’s one thing
that will always be equal between us… love.
I know, it sounds cheesy, but it’s true.
No matter where our lives take us, we always have a strong love for our
family and each other.
Growing up with an older brother was difficult… to say the
least. If you ask him though, growing up
with me was no picnic either. I swear that
there was a point in our lives when we were mortal enemies. We fought constantly, and over the most
stupid things (who got the remote, who got to play with what toy, even what
position a light switch needed to be in).
To tell you the truth, I don’t remember half of them. I do remember that our fights got physical at
times. Usually it was me that started
those. I would get so frustrated that I
would hit him, but he would never hit me back because he was raised to never
hit a girl. Of course that didn’t stop
him from shoving me, throwing me in bushes, or dragging me around in the
snow. I would like to say, “If I could
go back in time, knowing what I know now, things would be different.” Truth be told, it probably wouldn’t have
change a thing. I’m just as stubborn now
as I was back then. Even through all the
fighting though, we never believed we didn’t love each other. We knew we loved each other; we just didn’t
like each other too much. Our parents
told us that one day we would be best friends, and of course we knew that there
was no way in hell that was ever going to happen.
Much to our surprise, there came a time when we started
spending more time together and not fighting as much. I believe it started when all my friends had
crushes on him. They would want to be
around him as much as possible, so inadvertently we started hanging out
more. We then became friends, maybe not
best friends, but not enemies. Then all
his friends became like big brothers to me.
Whenever they brought people over, I felt so important. I was the “Lil-Sis,” or the “Lil-Shit,” as
they would lovingly say. It was
great. At least it was until this band
of brothers scared away any boy that was interested in me, checked up on me
when I went on dates, tormented boyfriends that they didn’t like, or would wait
up for me on our driveway in lawn chairs.
Needless to say, my parents didn’t have to worry much when my brother
was around. I can’t explain in words how
much I hated it, but that same group of guys was there for me whenever I needed
them to be. My life would have turned
out so much differently if it hadn’t been for my brother. At my wedding, I wanted to dedicate “The Wind
Beneath My Wings” to him, but I didn’t know what my new husband would have
thought of that. lol
Now, for what he doesn’t know… Even though we hardly see each other, I will
always think of him as one of my best friends.
I feel my chest swell with pride whenever I think of him, which is every
day, and I have spent my whole life looking up to him. No, not because he’s so tall. LOL He could do the smallest thing, and I
brag to whoever will listen, and always start with, “My brother is so cool.” Okay, so maybe I have a little bit of hero
worship, but I can’t help it.
I remember a story he told me, about a girl in high
school. She called him a “grease monkey”
in a derogatory way. To this day, I
still see red and want to smack her around.
I remember thinking how proud I was of him for knowing what he knew
about cars and doing what he loved. The
same still applies. He is living his
life by doing what makes him happy. He’s
the president of a motorcycle club (yes, had to throw that in… bragging),
working, fixing bikes, and having fun. I’m
a stay-at-home mom/writer, sports mom chauffer, and look forward to our
animated movie nights. Like I said
before, our lives couldn’t be more different.
Still, I would never change a thing about him, and I want him to know
that he is one of the most important people in my life. Happy Birthday Brober!
