Brother from another mother

My mother used to tell me that when she was pregnant with me she was afraid my brother and I would always fight with each other because there was a big age difference between the two of us.  But when I came along, because I was so beautimous, of course, my brother was very excited.  When I was a baby, wherever we went, he would introduce me to everyone.  My mother told me he would say “this is my little sister.  Isn’t she cute?”  Sadly, my brother passed away when I was very little.  I do have memories of him, though.  I remember his smile and his red hair.  I remember fighting with him over the tv on Saturday mornings.  This was “back in the day” before we ever got a tv with a remote.  I remember the two of us sitting in my dad’s chair watching tv.  He would put it on something that always involved cars.  As soon as he sat down in the chair, I would get up and walk up to the tv and change it to cartoons.  Then I’d go sit back down in the chair and my brother would get back up and change it again.  This would go on and on until my mother would put a stop to it.

I also have a memory of coloring with my brother and not wanting to share the broken cornflower blue crayon.  It was my favorite, you see.  Instead of letting my brother use the crayon, I shoved it up my nose.  I remember the look on his face when I did that.  He screamed for my mother and the only other thing I remember is being in a doctor’s office or emergency room and a doctor standing there with a long tweezer-like instrument.  I have a few other memories but for today I will keep those close to my heart.  My mother was always amazed that I remembered these things.  She thought I was too young.  But I think you can remember things about the people that you love and admire.

I really did admire my brother.  When I married my husband, I was excited because he had two brothers.  I had loved my own brother very much and every year I would put “baby brother” on my Christmas list to Santa even though my mother kept telling me that the “baby factory was closed”.  I thought she must have bad information because I kept seeing other babies pop up all over the place.  Now, with Hubz having two brothers, I thought that Santa had finally listened.  Of course, I’m still waiting on that danged Barbie Dream House.

My brothers-in-law, “the BILS”, are very unique individuals.  And I don’t mean that in a snarky way.  Really. *Insert angelic face.*  Both are very funny, both are great family men, and they both seem to tolerate me pretty well and usually laugh at my jokes which I personally consider to be a sign of truly great thinkers.  One is trying to run his own business and take care of his family which we all know in this economy is not the easiest thing to do.  He has developed this great political mind and will talk about current events in a way that makes me sit there dumbfounded.  The other is an Army man.  He has just come home from Iraq for some well earned R&R with his family.  He has also just met his brand new beautiful baby daughter who thankfully looks like her mother. [I said it.]

The BILS are great guys.  They both make you glad that you know them.  They help me out whenever I need it.  One of them even let me drive his truck once.  As you might guess, that also makes him a very brave man.  I now think of them as my own brothers.  I tease them, get on their nerves, try and make them laugh, try and be there if they ever need me.  I know we can all still get on each other’s nerves from time to time.  (Well, not me, of course, but you understand what I’m trying to say, right?)  But most of all, I admire them.  And I am thankful that I know them.  (But I’m really thankful they both gave me a sister-in-law cause we all know girls are better than guys.)

*Photo Credit: Stockxpert