What Brothers Are For...

My best friend is 16 months, two weeks, and one day younger than me. And I used to hate him.

My first introduction to him was when he was in his seventh month of residence in our mother's womb. Mom called me over to sit in her lap and I was instantly assaulted with a swift kick to the backside. He may not have been ready to come into the world, but he could have given Chuck Norris a run for his money. I wasn't sure I was going to like this new addition.

Grandpa recently told me that Bobby was quite possibly the most beautiful baby ever born. And it's a good thing he got so scarred up early on, cause he was just too pretty. One of the many scars on his face I helped him achieve. (That'll teach him to try and answer the phone when I've already stepped onto the step stool...)

It's funny what changes as we grow up. The boy that used to make my blood boil with anger has become a man that makes my heart swell with pride. The one I couldn't wait to get away from has become the one I miss the most.

I was a mixture of pride and nervousness when Bobby announced he was joining the Marine Corp. One deployment down and another one at its inception, I know he is one of the best. But that doesn't make another deployment any easier to accept. (Especially one that landed him on a plane a week earlier than scheduled. Darn military schedules.)

I heard Dean Brody's song "Brothers" a few weeks ago and it made me cry. Now it makes me cry and laugh cause I can hear so much of my own brother in the lyrics. I spent a lot of our childhood and early adulthood (cause we're old 20-somethings) trying to protect him and our sister. I'm learning to let go, but I also now know he spent a lot of time trying to protect us as well. I know he'll never tell me everything cause he doesn't want to burden me, just like I won't cry until after I've hung up the phone, but I know he always has my best interest at heart. And maybe in the end that's what brothers are for.