Monday, October 31, 2011

#27 My Siblings

I have also addressed this here ad nauseum.  So I will be brief.  I have four brothers.  I do not love them all equally.  I know that thought is not a cool one, but it is the truth.  My feelings toward each of them grow and evolve just as we do.  And while I care about them in a certain way one might name love, it is actually quite different. 

By way of example, my younger brother Phil and I hated each other growing up.  I was the only girl.  He was the youngest.  Our family was a shithole of frost heaves and arcing belts.  As children we merely played out what we saw, what we ourselves experienced.  I once kicked his 4 year old ass across a brick fireplace because he got too close to me.  He once took a full swing with a Louisville slugger at my shins.  The verbal abuse I gave him was merciless and would have put even my mom's skills to shame. 

As we became older, high school aged, we recognized that the other was not our enemy and we banded together in an uneasy truce against those who were.  We skipped church and went to breakfast.  Something was fed during those Sunday breakfasts that would serve us well later.  That lasted until I left for college.  Then he had to deal with it all by himself.  I think that broke something inside him.  I regret not being able to spirit him away with me. 

Ironically, he is now among my best friends.  He is my go-to-dude for home repairs, letterboxing forays, and to run maternal unit interference and clean up.  Our shared childhood bonded us tighter than Gorilla glue.  We may pick at each other a bit, but there are few people I laugh with more and none that I allow to see all of me the way I do him.  And there is no one I trust more to have my back.

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