Quote of The Day

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Baby Brother Forty Five!

Happy Forty Fifth Birthday

Just a newborn, with a tuft of black spiky hair protruding from your tiny head I adored you from that moment forward. At two, you buzzed up and down the halls on your yogi bear ride-on toy. I was only seven but you amused me. Four years old and you insisted on taking all the wheels off your trucks. I didn’t pay much attention, but I revered you. Just five, over and over you concocted the antic of sticking your bare finger out the fly of your jeans, pensively awaiting the barrage of adult laughter. You amazed me with your humor. A little man at six, you stood between me and the teenage boys harassing us. My brave little brother, you took a whipping with tree switches across your tiny bare chest, Just to protect me, your eleven year old sister. I admired and respected your courage. A year later a huge percolator of coffee dumped upon your small body. Again you valiantly endured the pain of peeling nipples and second degree burns. My first love came early at thirteen, he was seventeen and I was forbidden to see him. You lied for me and kept my secret. Only eight years old, I trusted you and knew you were my friend. When our parents went out; we secretly danced in the prohibited living room against the light of the Spanish lamp. We ate ice cream and stayed up late watching movies. As a teenager my life became busied and I drifted away from you. At twelve you started to lift weights and I admired your strength, endurance and discipline. It was the time when I socialized into a woman and caretaker. And you became a man. I got married and went away, Mom told me, for weeks, you sat on the front porch with your dog, missing me. Caught up in my own life, I didn’t even realize how abandoned you must have felt. We stayed friends. You begged me to let you drive my vehicle within the complex before you had a license. I let you. You put a ding in my brand new red car and I made you scrape the wax off my floor as restitution. As a teenager you had your own life and I had mine, we weaned away again. You were busy chasing girls and I living in the confines of a monotonous marriage. We’d get together to share secrets and laugh, so handsome and fit, I admired your girth and enterprise. We’ve hung on to each other through death and folly. For a minute in time our love laid dormant, only to be revived with spring’s new growth, with lessons learned, natures changed and new found respect. Years later I admire you as a father, a husband, a brother, but mostly as a man. With strength and courage, responsibility and adventure, your talents still amaze me, your humor entertains me, and your generosity astounds and overwhelms me. I love you dear brother and I’m so proud to have you as my family! Your one and only sister! Written by Sherrie

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This made me tear up. My brother was 8 years younger, and when i married, he missed me. He took his own life at 39, after telling me for years he would never see 40 years old..wow what a bummer my post is...but I so related to what you wrote about your brother...i had to comment.


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