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Dear Brother

December 3, 2010

Dear Brother,

We just got off the phone. It was a pretty ordinary “what’s new” conversation, but I can’t help but marvel at how much has changed.  Not bad change, but the good kind of change.  You are in college now, with a big time soccer career unfolding and a wonderful girlfriend who I’ve watched you fall in love with a little more each day.  You are making friends and creating memories and attempting to crack a book open here and there.  It’s all been amazing to watch.  Really, it has.

I remember when we were kids how, at this time of year, you and I used to sit on my bedroom floor with our December calendar laid out and a red pen to mark off the Christmas count-down days.  It was back in the day when we still had that amazing pink carpet in the house (way to go Mom and Dad), and we would put Amy Grant Christmas albums on repeat in my state-of-the-art 3 CD stereo.  We would play card games and listen to music and talk about the upcoming holiday until our words were as repetitive as the albums that played in the background.  It was you and me in our own little childhood holiday world.

Do you remember when I put ketchup all over my arm and convinced you I fell out of a tree?  I think that was the only time Mom broke her “no grounding children” philosophy.  Remember when we used to play tag with the whole neighborhood, and my best friend and I would run around the entire greenbelt (way illegal in tag) just to trick you when you were “it”?  Yeah, those were good times too.

As we got older, I remember being home from college, sound asleep in my bedroom, and hearing the garage door open in the late hours of a Friday night.  I will never again pick the bedroom above the garage, but the sound never really mattered anyway because every night, without fail, you would come jump into my bed.  Whether I was awake or asleep, you would come bounding through my bedroom door and throw yourself under my covers to begin telling me about your night.  Sometimes I swear you were just talking to yourself because I could never stay awake to hear your stories through the end.  But there we were – together.  Huddled under winter down comforters and flannel sheets, swapping stories and advice like we lived each other’s lives.  Sometimes I wish for those moments again.

And here we are on the eve of yet another one of your big college games, and I am wishing I told you on the phone just how much I love you.  Just how proud I am of you.  Just how much I wish I could express my joy for all that has happened in your life.  How excited I am to be a part of it.  I wish I could have found the words somewhere beneath the lump in my throat to say that I’m so glad you’re my family.  I’m so glad we were picked to be together.

I’ll be there cheering for you this weekend.  Our whole family will, and we’ll all continue to be there for the journey.  But if there’s ever any doubt, ever any doubt at all about the people who want to see your dreams come true – just remember –

Brother, I’m your biggest fan.

You got a dream?  Go get it.  Period.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Hermanito permalink
    December 16, 2010 6:30 pm

    I love you

  2. September 6, 2011 2:02 am

    Ooh, ooh, ooh – and this one, too. This sound so much like my own kids growing up that I can hardly read it without tears welling. Oh, lovely, lovely. Thanks.

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