I always envied my only-child friends growing up. They didn’t have to share their bathroom or their toys or their parents with anyone else. They didn’t have siblings that teased and bothered them all of the time. And they seemed to get whatever they wanted. It wasn’t until I was halfway through my teen years that I truly began to appreciate my brothers and sister.
When we were kids, I always had someone to play with even if we fought over what to play and who got which toy. My brother and I used to make a deal that if I played GI Joes with him that he would play Barbies with me. I was never lonely. If I got into a fight with my friends, I always had a brother or sister’s shoulder to lean on and talk to about it. And since we spent all of that time together while we were growing up, we have lots of inside jokes and stories to reminisce about now. I try to explain them to other people like my husband, but it is usually one of those things where you just had to be there.
I was a sophomore in high school the first time I remember being really grateful for my big brother. There was a girl who was a year older than me that kept trying to pick fights and bully me. My brother was a popular senior. When I told him what was going on, he spent his lunches with me and my friends for two weeks “escorting” us around campus until the whole thing blew over. For those two weeks I felt so safe and secure. Every time that girl saw him, she went scurrying the other way. It wasn’t the first time he had stood up for me, but it was the first that I had noticed enough to realize how great he was. Now, when I am scared about something, he is the first person I call. There are not a lot of bullies anymore but when life starts to stress me out, he is always there to calm my fears and I like to think that I do the same for him too.
Both of my brothers played football in high school and one went on to play in college. My sister and I were at every game we could go to, cheering them on. I remember several times that I nearly lost my voice yelling for them. Those games were a metaphor for our whole lives. Whether it is a play that my brother is in (now that he is an actor) or an emergency like when my son broke his leg, we are all there to support and encourage each other. There is no one in this world that I am as genuinely happy for, and constantly rooting for, then those three people (except for maybe the rest of my immediate family).
Now I like to watch my three kids play (and sometimes even fight) with each other. And although they may not realize it right now, I know that they are forming a bond that they will have for the rest of their lives. And I can’t think of a better gift that we could have given them.
