Forty something years ago my parents became parents for the first time. They had the perfect first child. I know he would argue otherwise, because humility is one of his natural attributes. I didn’t know until years later that when they had me, he was thrilled to have a little sister. From that moment forward, there was always something different about our bond. He has always tried to be my protector… and we both know, I never made it easy. We would get in trouble together, a lot, he would usually taking the bulk of punishment. At least that’s how I’ll remember it.
He’s always made me feel wanted, cared for, and that I mattered. He gave me my first sister and some pretty cool nieces and a nephew.
I know when I hurt, he hurts… I hope he knows it works the other way around too.
I hope he knows that the things he struggles with are things I wish more than anything I could fix for him. I hope he knows how much I love him.
Today, while he celebrates a birthday… not knowing without a calculator which one it actually is. I hope he knows that I wish for him that life will start a new chapter, and no, he’s not too old for adventures. That things that make you lose sleep are so temporary. That you are not alone, ever. And that I hope he knows that I think he’s the best big brother I could have hoped for. Happy birthday.