. . . no, not the T.V. show. I’m referring to that real, sometimes awkward, sometimes beautiful, sometimes tumultuous relationship between brothers and sisters.
Raising a boy and a girl I often find myself watching Charlie and Chanelle and saying a silent prayer. . . please let them remain close. This past weekend Charlie went on a road trip with Gramps and was gone for three days. Chanelle asked no less than 40 times when her brother was coming home. And when Charlie would call to talk to us he would always ask to talk to his sister. There were a few words but mostly a lot of shy laughter and a few “I miss yous”. Oh, and if you could have seen the way Charlie exclaimed “Chanelle!” and hugged her when he got home. . . Priceless.
Of course it was only minutes before the arguments, spats, and complaints that “he did this” and “she did that” began. . . but that’s part of being a siblings, isn’t it? There are good times and not so good times. . .
|This just says it all, doesn’t it?|
I have an understanding of what its like. . . this brother/sister thing. Just like Chanelle, I’m a little sister to a
This is my brother, Damon. . .
This picture is the perfect representation of his personality. F-U-N-N-Y. He’s pretty much the funniest person I know.
I remember what it was like growing up, though. We fought terribly. Yelling, hitting, pinching, scratching, tattling, tricking, and there may or may not have been an incident with a knife thrown in there somewhere. . . the list goes on and on. . . I can imagine that from his perspective I was the annoying little sister that he just wanted to create distance between. But from my perspective, I was the little sister who just wanted to close the gap. I’m guessing that is somewhat normal?
As much as my brother and I fought against each other, there were so many more times when we were on the same side. There was and is no question . . my brother always has my back. He would probably be surprised at the things I remember. Like the time when we were kids and Jeff, his good friend, was teasing me and I ran home crying. I was told later that my brother had a stare down with Jeff in my defense. Or the time we were at the pool and some guy was picking on me and my brother stepped in front of me and stuck out his chest in protective stance. Or the way he tried to teach me how to drive a stick and was so very patient with my inability to get it. I bet he doesn’t think I remember the time he visited me during my freshman year of college when I was having a really rough time and how he took me out to dinner, bought me a new CD, and slept on my hard floor. Yep, I remember it vividly.
And I wonder if he knows that I started running because he ran and I wanted to be like my big brother. Or if he understands what it meant to me when he surprised me by jumping into the race during the final minutes of my last marathon and cheering me on those last few steps. I’m sure he doesn’t know what it means to me when I see he and Chad getting along with the ease of “brothers”. Or how thankful I am that he married someone who is his perfect compliment and how I enjoy watching him be a dad and a husband. And I am certain he doesn’t know what it means to me when he plays with my son or how my stomach flutters when he picks up my daughter for a hug.
There are a lot of things I do not say to my brother because he is the guy who loves to talk sports, cars, and all things technical and I am the sensitive girl who likes to talk feelings. If I would tell him anything, though, I would want him to know that I am so honored to call him my brother and I am even more honored to call him my Friend.
And if years from now if Charlie would love and care for Chanelle like Damon loves and cares for me and if Chanelle would love and look up to Charlie like I love and look up to Damon. . .
This Mom’s heart would be happy.