Blog Post Six

Sibling Love

My brother, Matt, turns 50 today.  50 years old. Half of a century.  Now, I believe in the words “age ain’t nothing but a number”, but it’s still bizarre to think that I have a sibling who is 50!

This strange feeling is similar to when Matt became a father. A little background, my brother and I are 11 years apart. I was only 19 at the time, and was in my prime college years and kids were definitely NOT on my mind.  I remember thinking “Wow, we are in totally different life stages.” To be honest, that has been my brother and I for most of our lives.

Many of the sibling relationships I know have small age gaps, sometimes extremely small.  Those relationships are so different from Matt and I’s relationship.  Siblings who were close in age typically had stages where they fought and where they got on each other’s nerves, but ended up being best friends because when you think about it, a sibling is like a built-in best friend.  My brother was more like really cool father-figure to me when I was young.  I cherished the times that he would drive me to school or pick me up.  He was tall, athletic, had the biggest smile, and literally everyone liked him. It’s no surprise my friends had school girl crushes on him. 

Now, we may not be best friends in the same ways that siblings who are close in age are best friends, but to me, we are more than that. Matt has been with me in every decision I’ve made in my life, even if he doesn’t know it. I’ve learned a lot from his mistakes and he has always listened without judgment, providing guidance and support when I’ve felt a little lost. He’s a steady force that I know I can always lean on.

When Matt turned 16, my parents got him a sports car made for someone half his size.  However, that didn't bother him. He pushed the seat all the way back, so the car could really only seat 3 people. The coolest thing about that car was that it was manual, so when he’d drive me around he would let me shift the gears as he pushed down on the clutch. I have vivid memories of sitting in his car listening to Seal, Hootie and the Blowflish, and of course Adam Sandler’s ‘Ode to my Car’. (Clearly, he had great music taste. Don’t try me on this.  It’s a fact.) 

I still remember the day that my brother officially moved out. Parked in front of our house was an open trailer with a mattress and other random belongings tied down to it. Matt was off to the University of Texas to start the next chapter of his life, and I was only in second grade. By the time Matt moved back to Houston, I was in high school.  I loved having him back home.  I was in a pivotal stage of growing up – hormones were raging, my teenage moodiness was peaking and I was so thankful to have him close to me. It was nice to have an outlet to escape to when my parents were making me feel claustrophobic.  I remember I’d go down to his house (that he bought on his own at 26, no big deal) and help him clean and then he would take me to a movie. He LOVED going to the movies. In fact, it’s a memory I still associate with him. I remember how generous he was with me.  He would buy my ticket (score!), but then let me pick out a drink AND snacks (double score!)! Like I said, he was a cool brother.

Anyways, as we both got older, and Matt found his perfect match, Karen, they got engaged and we spent the next year planning his wedding.  I say “we” because I remember it felt like the topic of conversation at every dinner!  I call this the “wedding effect” because it happened when I got married, too. I digress. Anyways, yes, Matt and Karen’s wedding. I was 18 and loved that day. I loved seeing Matt so happy.  I laugh thinking back to the moment that his groomsman walked me down the aisle. I looked at Matt expecting to see that beaming white smile of his, and instead he was crying! What a softie. If he was already shedding a tear, you can imagine the waterworks show he put on once he locked eyes with his future wife.   Later that evening, I giggled seeing him dance, which to be honest, I’ve not seen him do since.  You could tell he felt at peace.  He was truly happy and that was amazing to witness. 

However, I have regrets about that day.  I didn’t give Matt the support he deserved.  When it came to speaking at the wedding, I declined.  At that time, I was terrified of public speaking and they were having a big wedding. I didn’t have the confidence to stand up in front of a big crowd and talk about someone who meant the world to me. How lame!  I wish I could have had the courage to move past that fear because this was a special day to celebrate my brother and his new wife.

So today, I’d like to try to right that wrong, and it feels fitting to do so on his 50th birthday (and 20th wedding anniversary). Below is a little diddy I wrote to celebrate a man who showed me what true strength looks like, who believed in me before I did, and who loves with his whole heart. 

Ode to My Brother:

You loved to steam roll me.

You poked relentlessly.

Your shoulder “rubs” stung like killer bees,

But your hugs healed me.

Your words of encouragement helped me see through the fog.

You were that father figure I wasn’t scared of

And now seeing you raise your own is something I stare at in awe.

You drew me a diagram.

You paved the way and told those obstacles to scram.

You taught me it’s ok to fall.

But the most important thing is to get back up, y’all.

You’re smart and sensitive showing me the qualities I wanted in my partner.

And your presence makes everyone who knows you want to stay a little longer.

So now, you are another year older.

Your lines may not be as fine.

Your hair line may be in decline,

But your smile still shines.

You, brother, are my north star.

You are my high bar.

Today, and every day, know I love you near and far.