Sometimes you just need your brother to kick your class.

The girls and I are spending Easter with my brother. You remember him...the one who used to hold me down and spit into my face.

Here's a refresher:

I just spent a couple of days visiting my little brother. Although he’s now 45 years old, he will always be our little “garcon.”

He’s the youngest of three – the son my parents were thrilled to finally conceive. We were living in the south of France, while my father served as a JAG officer. When he was born, the nurse in attendance announced to my mother (who spoke not a WORD of French) “C'est un garçon ! Un grand garçon!” Which I’m pretty sure means “big boy!” For years to follow my older sister and I would relentlessly tease “garcon” by insisting that the French “gendarmerie” were going to come for him when he was 21 to take him back to France.

This is the brother who also sold “peeks” into the bathroom keyhole when my sister and I were taking baths in our teens. He always received more money when my sister was the star. (She was more “blessed” than I.)

This is the brother who tried to teach our large white rabbit “Snowflake” to climb a tree when he was in kindergarten. Unfortunately for the rabbit, he didn’t give up.

This is the brother who put his arm through a glass door during a fourth of July party not long after Snowflake’s Memorial Service.

This is the brother who buried his father’s ANTIQUE TOOLS (that he’d inherited from HIS father) in our quite expansive back yard. Many were not recovered. In fact, I don’t think they found ANY of them.

This is the brother that would hide his poopy underwear in the closet so that our mother wouldn’t know he was pooping his pants in second grade. Unfortunately, the smell almost KILLED her one day when she attempted to clean said closet. It took a fifth of vodka to revive her.

This is the boy who would catch tons of fish in the backyard canal when we lived in Florida, and release them into our pool. (Along with the snakes, baby snapping turtles and objects we have YET to name.)

This is also the young man who lost his father when he was 14, and his mother when he was 21.

Brother - I am so very sorry that K. and I were not there to guide you through your grief. I was wallowing in my own sorrow and trying to find my way back after being cast adrift on that lonely sea of heartbreak. I didn’t even realize that I was not the only boat out there.

I love you more than words can say – and I hope you take comfort in the fact that mom and dad are surely proud of the man you have become. K. and I are very proud.

You are an incredible man, and yet when I look at you, you know who I see.

The boy who killed Snowflake.

(And today he is wrapping me in love, and little bit of "kick my ass." And I love him like a brother.)


Marisa Birns said...

This made me laugh a lot. And cry *wipes eyes*

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

Never had a brother. My sister, however, manages to add lots of pain to my derriere.

Lynn MacDonald said...

Oh, that's beautiful. I too had a little brother so i know what that's like.

But, i still feel like i'm ALWAYS here for him and he's NEVER here for me.

Glad your day finally came!!!

J.J. in L.A. said...

Having 5 brothers, I'm kinda jealous that you only have 1. ; ) But I do have a favorite. And, fortunately, he never caused the demise of any family pets...that I know of.

Enjoy your weekend!

Sharon Rose said...

Sweet reflections! Brothers, they are a best! I do love mine so much!

Mrs. E said...

Little brother, feel free to seek revenge on the poopy underwear posting. She has it coming! (Hide her vodka!)

Brian Miller said...

smiles. you gave us quite the emo rollercoaster there VM...your brother sounds like an ok guy...

did not know your dad was a JAG, i love that show...

and if he's 45 and the youngest you just busted my image of you...i figured 35 at the most...smiles.

Bobbi said...

I always wanted a little brother but unfortunately my mom had "closed up shop".

ChiTown Girl said...

LOVED this post!!! I love my baby brother more than words can say.

It's pretty ironic that literally minutes before I read this, he called to ask me for a favor, which I now have to leave to do, which means I can't waste hours of my Saturday blog surfing, like I usually do. ;-)

Nicole Leigh Shaw said...

Lovely, Thanks for sharing it.

Travis Erwin said...

I wish I had a brother half as cool.

Joanie said...

I had 4 brothers, just like that. One older, three younger.

Anonymous said...

I have 4 brothers and 3 sisters. Growing up, we all tortured each other relentlessly.

Now we couldn't live without each other.

The love between siblings is unlike any other.

Jeanne Estridge said...

I have a baby brother like that--thanks for reminding me to call him!

Notes From ABroad said...

Smiling ... weeping ... smiling ... kleenex !!
love you, love your brother.. C

Notes From ABroad said...

My baby brother is 10 years younger than I so we hardly know each other. But I do remember that he was better than a doll baby to play with, he was fun until he started wanting to go on dates with me and my boyfriend and I really missed him when I left home and got married etc.
And I am very proud of him , a handsome man with girls of his own ..

Sandy said...

What a sweet and funny post. I feel like I know him!

Sue said...

A bittersweet post that I loved! I look at my own kids, two girls, the youngest a boy who tortured his sisters constantly and still does! My grandkids are two girls, and the youngest is a boy, my baby
Bodhi! He already LOVES to crawl over to Morgan and in each of his hands grab her hair! He is starting the "girl torturing" young! Have a wonderful day with your family!

Take care, Sue

Irish Gumbo said...

Bittersweet, and so ON.


Casey Freeland said...

Poor Snowflake. They don't live very long anyway, though. Your bro sounds a lot like my bro. Maybe all bros? Hmmm...



Dawn said...

awww! Spending time with my brothers this weekend as well... nothing compares.

Cousin B said...

Through tears, I'm enjoying reading this. Cherish it.

Marinka said...

Oh, you. And that thing that you do with words.

Birdman said...

Sounds like my brother and sisters growing up... a RIOT!

Classic NYer said...

There's nothing like family is there? I had an older brother, not a younger one, and so the dynamic was quite different and yet very much the same as well...

Elaine said...

Is that POPCORN?? Happy Easter to you gf!!

vodka.therrapy said...

I'm guessing that when he reads about his poopy underwear story here you can consider Snowball's death avenged ;-)

SkylersDad said...

Well damn. You had to go and make me cry...

Anonymous said...

It sort of sounds like Frank (or Stanley)..... Just think what his teachers had to deal with.
Sounds like a carbon copy of my brother (my pet was a ginnypig).

DearHelenHartman said...

Tripping along from blog to blog and found your sweet (and troubling story of Snowflake-a-cide) post made me stop and read a while. Love your blog. Am now following.

Liss said...

Ahh gotta love family for airing your dirty laundry (literally - the image of the discovery of those poopy pants shall live with me always- thanks ;) ) but seriously I find it interesting that your own family has the same make up as your parents (2 girls and a boy that is).

I hope you've had a wonderful Easter and are settling into the (I'm sure quite ample) bosom of your family xxx

Unknown said...

Brothers... sigh. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

Deb said...

-->My older brother and I sister who are a lot older hated me most of the time I was growing up. Now they both moved to live closer to ME. Go figure.

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