I don’t have a brother. I’ve got three sisters. I was usually nice to them growing up except when I wasn’t. Like getting my mouth washed out with soap from my generally gentle Mother after going too far in calling them names. Sorry Sisters. Like hiding under AC’s bed and grabbing her ankles when she sat down. A juvenile move and yes, I still pay for her counselling sessions related to this trauma decades later. (I think she’s forgiven me for these acts). I should probably check on that.
Brothers, however, are different. They express love by performing atomic wedgies and continually pushing each other to the edge with sports and activities. 95% bravado, but when it counts, they have each other’s back.
Max, our oldest, had a birthday yesterday and is 29. Happy Birthday Max!!! When Chris passed he was a rock. I remember him at the funeral and for months and years afterwards helping others with their own grieving process as he dealt with his.
I’ve written a lot about Chris in these posts over the years for obvious reasons but Max was the first. The guy who paved the way. The guy who had to do everything first. The big brother. Our relationship today is built on years of experiences and memories that forge the trust and bond that allows confidence in the decisions to push the future. It may be a lot of fun and banter – but that builds funds in the ‘trust bank’ and in darker times, having equity in that bank is essential.
This little video from 9 years ago was typical and we look forward to many more in the future.