Tonight I am preparing for the long drive home tomorrow. I am writing this back at my more regular time of 9 p.m., with the expectation that I will be able to go to sleep early. I have to rise at 4:30 a.m. to get up and be ready to hit the road by 5. I think I’ll be able to manage it–I’ll have to be able to manage.
I would like to write a well thought out deeply meaningful blog tonight, but am not quite sure I am up to it. Here is what I want to write about, and I hope to be able to hit the mark at least in some small way: I am grateful for and love each of my siblings for various reasons. Oh there she goes writing about family again. But here’s the thing: I love writing about my family. They are the single most important element in my life at the moment. Tonight I want to focus in on one person. I was describing this phenomenon to someone earlier today, that among the six of us children of Roland and Dorothy are two who are universally loved: my brother Alan (a.k.a. Corky/Coco) and my sister Ruth. The six of us “kids” have reasonably good relationships with one another, and as is the case in any large family, some siblings are closer to and get along better with others. But my hunch is that if you were to poll the siblings and perhaps even my siblings-in-law and the various nieces and nephews about who the universal favorites are they would quickly land at Alan and Ruth.
Now I can’t necessarily speak for people outside of my family, though I’m certain that a number of people would vote similarly, but in my book these two siblings possess a number of wonderful qualities. I’ve written about each of them before (Day 90 and 314 about Ruth, and Day 774 about Alan) because I am so deeply grateful to and for them, but they are on my mind again today, especially my Alan. This evening I was able to spend a little time in conversation with him. He is the family storyteller. I am a writer and family historian, but no one in our family spins a yarn about our family like he does. And while many of his stories have a comedic, melodramatic, over-the-top exaggerated (tall tale) feel to them, he can also speak in deeply moving and eloquent terms about things close to his heart.
Tonight he was remembering a poignant moment about an emotional interaction he’d had with his wife at our father’s funeral. It reminded me yet again about why he is so special to me: inside that strong, powerful, six-foot, four inch frame beats a very loving, sweet, and vulnerable heart. I know as I sit here writing this that there isn’t anything my brother wouldn’t do for me. I started to add the phrase “within reason,” but the truth is, there are probably even some unreasonable things he would do for me if I asked him to. He has taken care of me and other members of our family in so many ways it’s impossible to count them all. He is also a good provider to his family, and he and his wife have raised three wonderful young human beings. They too are a testament to the kind of man he is.
Like most human beings, my brother has bad days and he can be cranky with the best of us. But even when he’s cranky he often finds time and room in his heart to reach out to, connect with, and help the people around him. He is by no means perfect, and would be the first to tell you he doesn’t have it all figured out. Like all of us he has his foibles and imperfections, which in a sense allows me to have mine. I’m grateful to my brother for who he is and for the example he sets for me of how to be a good person in his own unique way. I have learned a great deal from my siblings–through word and deed–and I am grateful for each of them for how they add to my life and what they bring to the world. I want to continue to grow into the person I am meant to be and am deeply grateful for the role models I have in each of my siblings. Simply put, it doesn’t get much better than that.
Me and My Big Brother Alan
