For me, one brother is enough though. He's so awesome I couldn't imagine having to share him with anyone else but my parents. I am the first born. Seemingly I would be the protector, the leader, the one that saves the day and makes everything good. But it is not so. My brother is my hero. He stands strong against the test of time. He has weathered the harshest of conditions and yet he still has kind words for people and always makes me know that everything, in the end will be ok.
We did not have the most conventional of upbringings. Our father died when I was only 7 and he a mere 4. It has been a hard thing for us. Being raised by a single mother whom did nothing but teach us acceptance and love for others despite anything. She is a powerful woman, our mother. She always let us make our own decisions no matter how rash always reminding us that it is our own choices that lead us down paths in life we have to live with. I think my brother listened to these words more than I though.
Being the eldest child I always ran free, not really having a care in the world and always doing whatever seemed fun and exciting. Not to say my brother hasn't had his own fair share of adventures, but
his lifelong dream was to be a husband and a father.
He used to always tell me how he was going to work hard, raise a bunch of kids and just be a dad. A happy go lucky fun dad (similar to the way our own father was before his death). And this is what he has become. It has taken 30+ years of trials and tribulations, but I think he has achieved his ultimate goal. He's the father. He takes care of everyone around him (not without his faults of course. I'm not trying to say he's perfect). He is always worried about tomorrow and what we are all going to do. He tries to have this cool aloof exterior when I know inside it's eating him alive, but he always says "It's going to be ok. No matter what". And he's always right. Every time. No matter what. It all works out, and he makes me feel better in the course of it all.
When we were small our mom saw a psychic, this woman told my mom she had one child, a boy. But in her description of this child, it was a mix of my brother and I. Some people think we're twins when they meet us. We are very close and look strikingly similar (more so than most siblings). I think this says a lot about how I feel towards him. He's my better half. The less wild (which is saying a lot about me because he's an animal), and the kinder, more nurturing side.
He's quick with hugs, always there with the laughter and has kind words for the worst of situations. All things I struggle with in life. My best friend (someone I've known since birth once told me she was afraid to hug me because I have that standoffish vibe I give off), but my brother, he always has his arms stretched wide open for those in need.
I on the other hand am harsh, demanding, angry, quick with the words that cut and attempt to protect everyone. I'm possessive, he's just not. He lets everything be mine. Probably because he knows I'm going to share with him in the end. He always wins. Everything. And he always makes me feel better when I'm at a loss. There's never a time when he doesn't make me see where I was wrong, and still accept me for being myself. He's never judging me.
All of these rambling words come to one thing; I am most grateful for my brother. For all the times we fought and for all the times we've cried and laughed, I wouldn't trade him for the entire world and I'm thankful there's just him. No one else I have to share my love or him with. And of course, he's always making me feel safe and well loved despite all my downfalls.
