My Brother

The story goes that my only sibling and brother by two years was home with our grandmother when I arrived home from the hospital with my parents in a bundle of yellow blanket. My brother's enthusiasm was not because of his cute, adorable little sister arriving to greet him, it was because he thought my parents had come home with McDonald's! Back then the paper sacks housing the food of Ronald McDonald were yellow ...

After the disappointment of not having a hamburger that day and instead getting a sister, we soon fell into a great relationship. We have always been good friends. Our squabbles were to a minimum and were over trivial items; like who set the table last or who got to sit in the front seat of Mom's 1962 white Dodge Dart with cherry red interior. We never punched or kicked, never yelled mean slang to each other, or broke things out of frustration toward the other. We were just friends.

He could beat me at a discussion any day regardless of topic, regardless whether I agreed or disagreed with his thoughts. The lawyer mentality, the books smarts, the whole package of brain he possesses is just spot-on. And I like that. He makes me think, and sometimes I wish I had his quickness to use on others. The moments when you retell the story and he says, "So, did you tell them ...." and you think, "Ugh, that would have been perfect!" Sarcastic, yes. Hurtful, no. Balanced.

A kind hearted, thinker, confident in who he is and what he wants, a gentle soul, a musician, good looking, athletic, personality plus ... my brother.

Smooches and Happy Birthday!!!