For My Brother

X years ago today my brother awoke in anticipation of his 5th birthday and his first real birthday party. The joy that little head and heart must have contained. The middle of summer, friends and family about to come over, presents, cake, ice cream and games. Is there any better way to spend a summer day?

Please don't ask him that question. He is unable to provide an answer and I believe the wound may still be a tad raw. Shortly before guests were to arrive my mother's water broke. Instead of greeting guests at the door, my brother was packed off to his grandparents house. No party. No cake. No ice cream. No games.

He did get a phone call from dad:

"Happy Birthday. You have a baby sister".

"I don't want a baby sister. I want a tonka truck. Send her BACK".

20 years later I bought him that tonka truck. He looked at me, the truck, then my mom.

"She's still here".

I ruined my brother's 5th birthday. I ruined his first real birthday party. I continued to ruin his birthdays for as long as I could. I insisted on birthday parties even after I no longer cared for them because it drove him crazy. When I could no longer stand them, I continued to ruin things for him by insisting the family go out for dinner. I tortured him right up until he moved out. The last thing he said to me as he walked down the stairs for the last time carrying his TV: "and I'm not coming back for anymore birthdays!"

Not to worry dear brother. Not to worry.

My future SIL picked up the torture from there and started throwing surprise birthday parties for him... at their house.

Why would I continue to torture my older brother this way? Payback.

I wasn't allowed to play with his trucks. I was too small to play ball with unless it was kickball and they needed someone to retrieve the ball from the middle of the Poison Ivy patch.

I dreaded bringing friends over never mind boyfriends. He didn't say hi to my friends. He grunted at them. The one time he did slip and utter the word "hi" to a friend, she was so shocked she practically shrieked "HE SPOKE TO ME!". I told my parents they wouldn't meet any boyfriend until I met one who was taller, stronger, and bigger than him - basically, I was waiting to bring Dolph Lundgren home.

If he had his way I would have been put in a convent until I was 30 at which point I would have been released to marry a man he picked for me.

He took the title Big Brother to the extreme. I think even Orwell would have been a tad concerned.

But even now I look back on these memories foundly because I couldn't have asked for a better Big Brother.

Because I was the PITA little sister who would attach herself to his ankle and make him drag her all over the house and he would do it. With no complaint.

Because we went camping on Columbus Day weekend one year only to have our tent collapse due to high winds. The next day, tired, sore and wind-blown, we were all done. He motioned for me to follow him and I did so without question. He led me to a large rock next to a stream with the most perfect patch of grass. The grass was bathed in sunlight and the rock blocked the wind. We sat there for what felt like eternity without speaking until a fish swam by. "Is that a catfish?", I asked. He nodded. It was the first time I saw a catfish that wasn't in a book. We didn't speak after that. I didn't feel like we had to. I was warm and safe. He was looking out for me.

Because the day I said my final good-bye to Dad, he waited for me and then sat there patiently with his arms around me while I bawled my eyes out.

Because he knew at that point it would be him walking me down the aisle. He did so without question, with patience, and his normal silent strength. Because he kept me calm that day without saying anything at all.

Because he agreed to a Brother-Sister dance in place of the Father-Daughter dance and managed with almost no tears in his eyes. Ok, it may have helped when I had the DJ start with "Rubber Ducky".

Because he has given me countless amazing memories. Been a source of strength; reliance.

Because he has made me laugh and stood by me when I cried.

Because if I asked, he would say yes.

He's grown from a Neanderthal to a Homo Sapien in a short span and I love both versions. He's turned into an amazing father and the payback continues: 4 kids - 3 are girls. If he doesn't understand the concept of Karma yet he will shortly as the oldest approaches her teenage years and the other 2 aren't far behind.

I tease, I kid, I roast but I love him. He is my brother and I couldn't ask for a better one.

I'm glad I ruined your 5th Birthday Marc, for completely selfish reasons. The Tonka truck may not entirely make up for it but I hope you can forgive me.

Happy Birthday.

I love you.