I never requested a brother. Just for the record. I was 8 years old when mom started growing me a sibling in her belly. I requested a sister. Apparently mom is hard of hearing or something. Because what I got out of the deal was you.
Turns out that isn’t such a bad deal. You actually grew up to be a really cool guy. Someone I would probably be friends with if we weren’t brother and sister. I mean, we ARE friends anyway….but we could have skipped the years of being FORCED to be nice to each other by mom.
On one hand, I find it amusing and fascinating how different you and I are. You have lived most of your life in the same state. This fact is even more amazing to me because the state you live in is about the same size as the TOWN I currently live in. Meanwhile, I live like a gypsy, hopping from one place to the next. I have lived in 10 different states and god knows how many towns within those ten states in my life. As much as I enjoy stability and predictability, I get bored easily and love to find new places and new faces. You have worked at the same place since you were what? 16? Almost a freaking decade. Me? I’m a Stay At Home Mom who sells homemade tye dye shirts and other oddities for spare cash. I freelance write. I babysit for friends. Whatever. The point I am making is I float and you walk on solid ground. You have roots. I have wings. Neither of us are doing it wrong. It just strikes me as so odd that we can come from the same background, the same family….and be so different. As if we took totally different paths somehow.
But then I catch moments of like-ness. Moments when we both crack up over something we find hilarious. Moments we see eye to eye. On something political, something social, something about LIFE that clicks within us both and resonates as fact and helps us remember that we are cut from the same fabric.
I remember one time when you were just a kid. I think you were 14. My then-husband was being a jerk that day and said something mean to me and you, in all your adolescent awkwardness of glasses, and scrawniness, busted outside and went right up to that 6 foot tall man and ordered him to be nice to your sister. He turned around and told you to shut up and mind your business. Which resulted in our little sister busting outside in all her still-baby-fat 4-year old glory and hollering at him “Don’t you yell at my brother!”
I had never been more proud, nor loved the two of you more than in that moment. Because that’s what mom taught us. To stick together. To love.
I love you, bro. More than you know. You may not have been what I requested, but you were exactly what I needed in my life. A little root for my wings.
Took you long enough.
I wanted a sister my entire life. And you go and show up when I am almost 18 and already moved out of the house. Typical of you. Always running on YOUR time.
Sounds a bit familiar.
When you were born I teasingly told mom you would grow up to be “just like me”.
“Over my dead body” was her adamant reply.
Turns out I was right.
Not that I was that bad of a kid or anything. I really wasn’t. I just happened to be a bit high maintenance. I was classic-case ADHD with an attitude to boot. And pretty disorganized. Loud. Talkative. And by talkative I mean I talked 22 hours a day. Straight. With no pauses.
You and I are more alike than mom would probably like to admit. The reason she probably wouldn’t like to admit that fact as truth is because SHE is our common denominator. So, clearly, we get the crazy from HER. 😉
But seriously, I adore you. At times we fight. And boy do I mean FIGHT. Pull hair, throw punches, call each other names. I sat on you once when I was 9 months pregnant. You called me a bitch in retort. That’s just life with a sister. I never really fought like that with Nick. Nick was more go with the flow. Only time I ever saw him get stressed was towards himself. You and I on the other hand….we FEEL more often than we THINK. We have a lot of passion in our souls, fire in our hearts. I remember what it was like to be a 15 year old girl. Somedays I still feel like I am. We might get into some brawls at times….but man I would beat the crap out of anyone who dared to hurt you. Seriously. You are my beautiful baby sister. I have hopes for you. I pray for you. I believe in you and all of your potential. Poor Nick, stuck in the middle of us two crazy-ass sisters.
I love you my dear. Always.
Now go clean your room.