March 2, 1983 a baby boy was born. This cutie patootie weighed a healthy 8 lbs. 4 oz, mainly in his head (this kid has/had one hell of a melon). He also came into the world with one hell of a heart to boot. The boy would be my big brother and my idol. I know Ive already written a post on the impact both of mis hermanos have made in my life, but today calls for another shout out to one of the reasons I wake up every morning.
I wished more than anything I could be there for him on his day of birth Tuesday, but alas, hes alone in Venice, LA with the only companionship being his adorable husky pup, Little-Jerry-Seinfeld (yes, that is his real/full name); while the rest of his fam and friends are on the opposite coast across the country. So I accepted the separation and called him. Yall know how much I despise my cellular/techy devices (or maybe you dont) but desperate times call for some seriously desperate measures: the one at hand being telling my broski what an incredible gem of a soul he is and I love him more than anything. Expecting to get either a voice mail or a brief “love you-happy birthday-you mean the world to me” shout out with the uze “love you too mare, thanks for callin” lasting all of 20 seconds… i was surprised to detect some muffled sniffles that were a tad difficult to discern over the cells. Confused and nervous I addressed the melancholy that is so atypical of my goofy-life-lovin older brother. He completely broke down, reversing our typical roles of me blubbering and him consoling (aka telling me to suck it up and busting my non existent balls). This caught me off guard, but was a little hopeful at the opportunity to be the one to save the day and kiss his booboos. I wont tell you the deets of his sadness; lets just say theyre similar to my own: lonliness, fear, insecure, etc. with a little bit of extra love-of-his-life-just-dumped-him thrown in for good bad measure. I wish I could have prepared for this opportunity, but did the best i could and we ended the conv. an hour later giggling like little school girls once again. I wish more than anything I could fly across the country to give him a hug, the new Esquire and some tissues in person.
So my Q of the day is: how do you support a typically fun-loving, sarcastic loved one when they break like a cadberry creme egg and turn to you? How do you process it?
While I think I did the best I could at the time, I still wish I could take away all of his pain. I have a hard time processing it all because the baby sister in me just aches all over to know that he’s so sad. The perils that come with love…