Each of us has different roles in the lives we lead. We're spouses, partners, children, parents, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, friends, co-workers, and any of an innumerable list of roles. He's a father, a son, an uncle, a friend, but for me, he's Brother.
I don't remember many times I've called him by name to his face. I use his given name in conversation when talking about him with others. But when he answers the phone, he says Hello, and I answer back, Hey Brother. And I end the conversation with I Love You, Brother. I guess the name everyone else uses just isn't personal enough for me. After all, I'm the only one who will ever call him Brother. That makes it kind of special.
He's grown from my scrawny little brother to a man I respect. He loves his two boys. His face softens when he's talking about them. Even when they make him angry, you know how much he cares. He wants to see them become the strong men that they are capable of becoming.
Don't get me wrong, he has his faults. He's got that family temper that we all have. But once it boils over, he goes back to being a gentle bear. He's obstinate and strong-willed, but then I guess those are family traits as well.
Today, he's facing a demon that I never thought my Brother would face. He has seminoma. Not being in the medical field, I'm not exactly sure what it means, but it makes me worry. I know he's strong and the story of Lance Armstrong makes me know that he can beat this. I just wish I could be there for him. It's hard being so far away from my strong little Brother at a time like this.
So, good night Brother. I love you.
