My sister Kimmie, me, and my big brother Curtis, who is the subject of this story.(There is the business of yesterday's post and your beyond-fantastic comments and emails, but I'm taking a brief pause in the Wallowing Fret for the following...)
When I was around seven or eight, my older brother Curtis would tease me mercilessly by telling me he was going to grow up and become a professional bum. He didn't use the word "professional", though. He just told me that he was going to become a bum. And then, in typical youngest sister fashion, I would cry.
Most of the time one of my parents would be summoned into Curtis' bedroom (by me and my wailing) and I'd do my level best to tearfully demand that they tell Curtis he simply was not allowed to become a bum. And that would be that.
Instead, they usually laughed.
I know, right? (And before any member of my family butts in here and insists that I'm telling the story wrong, I will remind them that this is my blog and my dedication to a big brother who took special pride in WATCHING ME CRY. Because I was too worried about him.)
Sibling stuff is weird, man.
Of course he didn't become a bum. He became a husband and a father and a well-respected professional person in his chosen field of work.
I'm proud of him.
But I don't know if I've ever told him that.
Sort of like he never told me that he wanted me to cry over his chosen vocation of bumdom to show my love. (At least this is what I'd like to believe...)
There are a lot of years that separate us. By the time I was conscious and a relatively functioning member of the family he was up and out and off doing older stuff like dating and working and getting on to college. Every once in a while Stacie and I would convince my much older and obviously cool brother to drive us somewhere. I don't even think we cared where he drove, so long as it was just the three of us in the car. He made us feel awesome.
I can honestly say that I forgive him for making me cry all those times.
And I can honestly say that he still makes me feel awesome, just knowing him.
Happy birthday, big bro.
4 comments:
I have a similar story.
My mom read to us from the Bible sometimes and there was this verse about somebody who called somebody else a 'Fool' and was damned to hell (I wish I could remember it exactly) and I was horrified. My older brother called me a fool probably on a regular basis and I of course cried because I just KNEW he was gonna burn for it.
Wierd.
But true.
Happy Birthday Big Brother!!
I remember those rides with Curtis! I also remember us hanging around in his room and he was always so sweet to NOT kick out the 2 little annoying girls!!
I was the 10 years older one who was out of the house by the time the younger sibling was cognizant. I will say that I bet Curtis likes you right back.
Also, today is my aunt's birthday, and she is probably the KINDEST person I've ever met. Maybe it's an astrological thang.
you look like Alice!!!
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