So my little brother's birthday's coming up. He's gonna be 30. HA HA HA HA HA Notice the "little" pun. At 6'3" I guess he's my younger brother now.
Our childhood wasn't that wonderful, but whose is really. My mother left us when I was 8 and he was 4, so I became the mom, and I have been ever since. We had a step mother, still do, but it just never was the same. We were extremely close growing up. I was totally overprotective and watched out for him like crazy, but also did the big sister thing and teased him and tortured him on a regular basis.
Anyway, we got through so much just having each other. If the whole world failed on me, which it did OFTEN, I always had him. I know today that if something truly crappy happened to me I could call him and he'd be right here. He's the one person in my life, aside from my children, that has never let me down. Not once.
A fond (??) memory - when I finally realized he could hold his own...One summer he grew about 6" in three months. No, I'm not kidding. So, one day, I'm doing my usual pick on the little brat thing, and he hits me with a right hook that sent me reeling and circling and seeing stars. I totally deserved it. I never picked on him again. Well unless I had a clear open space to run away quickly. After this instant right-hook induced respect, I've had the privilege of being force fed leaves, paper, and other objects. I've had wedgies. I've had noogies. I've had thwacks. Every single thing I did to him growing up, I've gotten payback for.
Anyway now that we're older, and because of the dysfunction with my father and stepmother, we've sort of grown apart. He's got his own kids and wife and life and I've got mine. Unfortunately I can't handle being around the fam for an extended period of time (Christmas nearly kills me), and he's around them ALL the time, so our relationship's become sort of distant.
He was right there for me when my grandmother (the only real mother figure I had) passed away in 1991. He was there for me when I went through my divorce (after a few "I TOLD you so" statements). When my mother died in 1997, we clicked again. We were right there for each other, and he helped me pull through it. So, even though we don't talk every day and even though life sometimes gets in the way, he'll always be my little brat.
My family puts the FUN in dysFUNctional I swear.
Anyway happy birthday little brother. I love you B.