My Big Brother

My mom tells the story of the birth of my brother. It was back in 1958 when the hospitals were still segregated. It must have been a full moon because the hospital was full of women birthin' babies. My aunt was also in labor with her youngest child, but they didn't get to the hospital as early as Mama did. Brother was born in the "white" section and high falutin cousin and aunt had to go to the "negro" section of the hospital to be born.

Brother was actually born after midnight on November 20, but the doctor in this small Kentucky town was determined that since November 19 was his birthday that this child was going to have his birthday -- so the birth record was officially filed as my brother being born on November 19, 1958. Wasn't he a beautiful baby boy? That is my Sister holding him. Doesn't she look proud of her baby brother?

A typical middle child, I would hear stories of his uncanny ability to tune out everything and be in his own world. Like my middle child -- you could holler at the top of your lungs to get his attention, and he wouldn't hear you. You would literally have to go and tap him on the shoulder to get his attention. Wonder if it had anything to do with having two ornery sisters?

I was born when he was 8 1/2 years old and I idolized my big brother. When I was in fifth grade, my teacher told me about having my brother as a student. She said at the start of the year he came into class all excited and said -- Mrs. J, Mrs. J guess what? I am going to learn to play the violin. Then she said at the end of the school year he came in and and was excited telling her Mrs. J, Mrs. J -- I have a baby sister!!!! Yep -- he's been playing that fiddle for forty years now.

At 17 he graduated from High School and went to college at the University of Alabama. We would take him to the Greyhound bus station and I would cry when he would leave. As I said, I looked up to him. He was my refuge in a home where alcoholism was starting to be ugly. I'd sleep in the bed with him at night. He taught me to whistle. He'd play with me. He'd make me laugh. He made me feel safe.

I was now the only child left at home. I wrote him lots of letters. I bragged to my friends about my wonderful big brother, about how handsome he is, and how talented he is... I even started playing an instrument and followed in his classical music footsteps for a while.

Brother moved out of state and became the Principle Violist for an orchestra.

I admit that I do not know my brother as well as I should. But , I have always felt that I can open up to him like no one else. Like Daddy he is soft spoken, and very reflective. He is very intelligent and he is a hypochondriac (in a good way.) Brother was a bachelor for many years until he married his high school sweetheart. She found him on the internet and sent an email to him saying "hey are you the same guy I knew in high school?" They were married soon after.

They now have a beautiful little girl and she is the joy of his life. Every time I hear him talk about her I can hear the amazement and the love and pride in his voice. It is like he has been fulfilled.

The girls and I called Uncle B***** tonight and sang him the Birthday song. Last year at Christmas, my kids played with him and I could see that if they were around him, they would love him and look up to him in the way that I did. He is just too cool.

Oh -- sometimes Sis and I laugh and joke "We have a brother?" He has been gone from Kentucky so long. I guess that is just our way of saying -- we miss you, and we may somewhat resent the fact that he got away from all of the craziness that we have lived.

My brother is bald. There's just something sexy about a bald man. He is the "SON" in my Mama's eyes and the Sun rises and sets in him. That is okay. I have a son now and I understand.

I am proud to be your baby sister.

I think it is really cool what you do for a living.

So -- with this I am sending Big Birthday Wishes.

I love you Big Brother.