Yes, he's 50. And don't forget that he's older than me. I'm not near close to 50.
I was trying to think about my first memory of my brother. But there isn't one. Because he has always been there. Always.
My first memories together are playing and fighting as kids do. He has always been older, wiser, and someone I could rely on.
We played hours of 'pig' and 'horse' together. We'd sit side by side in an old junker Ford Mustang and dream of the places we'd go even though it didn't move an inch.
We took off on road trips to far away places when we were barely old enough to drive (what were our parents thinking?).
He had a strong work ethic which motivated me to get my first job as well.
And then he went off to college. I followed three years later to the very same university. Mostly because it felt safe that my older brother was there. And because I could get free rides back home!
He made fun of my choice of major. He was an accounting major. He would tell me I was two levels below because flunkie accountants become finance majors. Flunkie finance majors go into business administration. So that's where I stood.
I also made fun of him. Told him he would be an ugly bachelor all his life because he was too shy to get a girlfriend. He would live alone and drive a weird car and have a weird haircut and no one would ever be interested in him.
The day he got married was a very sad day for me. We had always been very close. I was always there sharing life with him. And then he chose his wife. And I knew she'd always come first over me as she rightfully should. Then I realized I gained a whole wonderful thing. A new sister that I treasure. And my relationship with my brother even deepened with her there. They had three sons. The days they were born were utter joy to me. My brother - a father. And a super one in every sense.
My brother is one that just 'gets me'. Somehow even though 2,038 miles separate us these days, it is like there is no distance. We think alike. Laugh at the same things. Worry the same. And share a love for something more than this life.
Today at family gatherings, we revert to a comfortable place. I chatter along without thought. He quietly makes snide comments. The room roars with laughter. I'm hurt and happy all at the same time. Why? Because he's my brother and it is his way to show he cares.
So... here's a few pictures I dug out from a dark and scary place in our basement.
my graduation a couple years ago |
Kool kat city mowing the dusty prairie grass |
Evidence: he claims he hates cats |
Still loves to jerk my chain when he can... |
Happy birthday Keith! Here's to 50 more!
What a sweet post! Brought back memories of my own brother- my first best friend!
ReplyDeleteMy mom tells lovely stories about her older brother and how they played together, and did everything together, until he, too grew up and she went on to high school. My two youngest were much the same way for many years. I hope one day they can get some more of it back.
ReplyDeleteI always thought it would be neat to have an older brother. Since I'm the oldest tho--it wasn't to be. My only brother is the "baby". A few of my kids were lucky enough to have an older brother. I love to watch sibling relationships.
ReplyDeleteMisty Jeansie Weensie!! The bedspread is still ugly.
ReplyDeleteNo wonder Grandma A. said he just had 'chicken fat' muscles.
Glamorous. Not.