Celebrate

My brother got married this weekend!

My mother gave birth to three girls. My parents raised three daughters. I am the middle daughter, with a sister on either end. So in all actuality, I have no blood brothers. I did however grow up with three boys (with many others on the peripheral) who were as close to me as brothers would be. In some ways they were even closer. We spent every day together, from grade two until grade nine.

And one of my “brothers” got married this weekend!

So to him, I remember and celebrate:

He pulled my hair and pushed me around. In reality, he was a bit of a bully, and I know that that’s where the feeling of “brother” comes from.

He brought out my inner tomboy. He taught me how to spit and how to use the good swear words. We spent our summers riding our bikes: through the spray deck, at the park, through the ravine and from one end of town to the other. We played kick the can with all the neighborhood kids every summer, until the sun had long disappeared for another day. I wonder if he remembers the night the coffee can for kick-the-can was run over by a car…wow! Was that man mad at us!

He always made me pull him on the back of my bike while he was on easy street behind me, being pulled on his rollerblades. He drove me nuts as he wasted a day, hurling apples from my parents’ crab apple tree at the neighbor’s houses (as only little boys would do) or when the apple weren’t ripe, it was tossing eggs. And the many occasions after school when he would come over for hours but upon hearing dads truck pull up in the driveway, bolt like lightening, sneaking out the back door, frightened as a little boy over “Jim-Bo”.

I remember playing Pogs with him, and trading hockey cards. I’m sure he got a few good ones from me in those days.

He taught me how to play hockey and we had many games on the street. The day he did a wrap around the net, and my moment of thinking I was so cool: “You got a hat trick!” I exclaimed, so thrilled in thinking I was hip…I quickly learned that day the difference between a hat trick and a wrap around!

He came to me about girls…ALL THE TIME! As we got older, he came to me for advice. We shared friends, and schools and homework. I would read the book and he would come to me for the cliff notes. I remember my brother, all the way through elementary school and into Jr.: “Laura, will you do my bubble letters” whenever it came time to do a cover page for a school project.

I remember the other girls in school, so curious and dare I say, hesitant? Maybe a bit jealous? of this relationship that I had with “My Boys”. What can I say though, other than they were my brothers.

I remember, as we got older and started to experiment with drugs and alcohol. I remember how worried I was for my brother, the first time he admitted he had tried smoking pot. I still have the letter I wrote to him but never delivered. I was so afraid that he was heading down a road that school had taught us was a horrible one. I smile when I think about it. Today, I couldn’t be more proud of him.

I remember, after graduating high school, the day he sat in my parents’ kitchen, after returning from backpacking in Europe for 3 months. The stories he told me! And how much he had changed...grown up! I think that that was what I noticed the most. All men are little boys, but there was something in him that day that had never been there before.

I remember when I officially became part of the “group”: the day when I ceased being “Laura” and they started calling me “Laurie”. I remember how included and special I felt. (There is a group of about 8-10 of them…to this day; none of them go by their given names. They all have nicknames, my husband included: Weebo)

They are my brothers.

They are “My Boys”.

And now another one of them got married!

I am so happy for you brother, and I wish you and your wonderful wife many more years of wonder and love. Together forever.

Cheers!