Hold My Hand, Just in Case
Siblings are funny things, aren’t they?
You spend the younger years of your life getting into insane amounts of trouble with them, the middle, teenage years arguing and quarreling, and the later years of your lives realizing how important they are to you- whether either of you admit it or not.
But no matter how much you may- or may not have- talked/hung out/ been civil to one another, there’s always that knowledge that you’re there for each other.
Siblings are the family that you can never really escape from. Your more extended family- those ones you can choose how often you talk to them and if or when you want to see them- but not necessarily with your siblings.
Even as much of a pain they are- or might see you as- you’re still their family, and there’s nothing else in the world that replaces that feeling of knowing you have that other person out there to back you up.
If you’re the younger sibling, you know what I’m talking about when I mention those time out causing plots. When your older sibling talks you naïve younger self into some horrible plan that, in retrospect, is an absolutely terrible idea and should probably end up with broken bones or a trip to the bathroom the have scraps cleaned out with hydrogen peroxide and Neosporin. Those kind of moments.
Yet, us younger siblings have that unshakable faith in our elders. I’m talking about the belief that they won’t let us get hurt, even if by all means we probably shouldn’t come away from one thing or another without a scratch.
I couldn’t tell you exactly where that faith comes from- all I know is that it exists.
Years later, we can look back on those poorly planned and executed ideas with rueful shakes of our head, embarrassed grins, and rolling eyes. Looking back on everything, I’m amazed my brother and I never came away from some of those plans with anything worse than a few scrapes and dirty clothes. We probably should have broken a few bones over the years- to teach us a lesson in our stupidity if nothing else.
Making our own teeter-totter that was about 10 feet off the ground? Probably not the best idea. Fun, but probably not safe.
Grabbing garbage can lids and sticks and having fights? Again, not the brightest. Amazingly fun, but probably not safe.
Trying new tricks on our bikes? That one I’ll admit I learned quickly from and it was never repeated.
Burying cherry bombs in the wall of sand and then lighting them off all at once? That was hilarious and amazing, but did not please the parental units.
Stringing a huge fishing net across that small field and turning it into a makeshift trampoline? That one should have probably ended with more than one injury, but luckily just had scrapes. I think our parents were more amazed that we managed something like that more than they were angry.
And that, dear readers, is the awkwardly worded way in which I’m saying that today is my older brother’s birthday. Also, my way of saying that even if he and I aren’t best buddies, we still love each other- even if we thought the other was the biggest pain in the butt ever when we were younger.
Thank you for letting me be your partner in crime and never letting me get hurt (too badly) as we mangled plans, came up with new ones and tried again. I couldn’t have asked for a better big brother.
Not to mention, I was never bothered much in high school. You might have graduated right before I started, but somehow people still knew who you were and that I was your little sister. I never worried much about bullies or teachers being a pain thanks to you. After all that’s happened over the years, I doubt I could have made it through as much as I have without your strong, albeit quiet, presence always there- whether you knew it or not.
So… Happy Birthday Branden =)