My Big Brother

My big brother and my best friend turned 63 years old today.

When our father died, my brother was 13 years old; I was five. Having a brother eight years older is a generational barrier when you are five. He was entering high school and I was just starting the first grade. I looked up to him a great deal, but he did not really seem to notice his little brother. He would take me with him periodically to help deliver the newspaper, but after he found a girlfriend, little brothers basically disappear.

My brother was born in Baltimore, MD in 1943, during the war. My father was working as a shipbuilder and welder, an asbestos-related profession that took his life a decade or so later. My brother was born with club feet - a pediatric disorder where the feet are turned backwards. This required him to have a series of painful casts in order to correct this congenital disorder. At age 63, he is still having problems with those feet. The only silver lining of having this orthopedic deformity was that he qualified for a four'year rehabilitation college scholarship. He became the first person in our family to graduate from college, which served as my inspiration to later do the same. Neither one of us saw any future in working in the coal mines. He had bad feet and I was afraid of caves.

When I was 12 years old, I wanted to visit him in college. My mother would not take me, but she did permit me to hitchhike about a hundred miles to do so. Can you imagine allowing your sixth grader to hitchhike! She did drive me six miles away from our rural town so that I could get a better ride along the highway. Six years later, he drove five hundred miles so that he could take me for my first day at college (Again, my mother would not drive me to my own college.) He was the only family member that attended my graduation.

I graduated college at age 22 and was married by then. My brother was 30, also married, and had one child. This was really the beginning of an adult relationship with my brother that has grown exponentially over the years. My brother is the only other person on this planet that shares my genetics and our odd life experiences. There is a Father's Day; a Mother's Day, but there really should be a Brother's Day. My brother has worked for Hallmark Cards for three decades, so he really should suggest that idea. Many people would buy them.

Last weekend, my youngest son who shares my brother's name, was married. We had rented a five bedroom house for the family and it warmed my heart to see a similar relationship that my four sons and daughter have with each other. My brother could not attend the wedding, because he has taken on the responsibility of caring for our elderly mother - the true measure of a caring and loving man. My seriously-ill mother has recently been placed in a nursing home for 24-hour care. Although my mother was never a loving or giving mother, her greatest gift to me is clearly my brother. Happy Birthday, Bro...

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