Thursday, February 6, 2014

Happy bday Bubba

Today is my brother's birthday.

I'm not sure how old he is, because I quit thinking about how old I am a few years back, and numbers don't matter to me anyway.  We must be in our 50's, but that's about as much as I recall.

Anyway, today is the day he was born many years ago.

This is a weird post for me, because I don't always talk about my bubba.  He's pretty private, and will be most likely unhappy with me for writing this, but it is my blog, so tough tots, bub.

My brother was born to my parents almost 9 months to the day after they were married.  (Yep, that happened).

He was the most beautiful baby, and so playful and a delight.  The only weird thing was, he had a deformed ear.  No reason for it, an "anomaly" if you will.   That was 1958.

Technology wasn't too advanced then, but my parents were determined to give him a normal childhood (however, normal can be).  So he went through plastic surgery after plastic surgery after plastic surgery, to no avail.

The thing is, though he had a birth defect, he was a brilliant pianist, sportsman, the most intelligent person in his class.  It was just an ear. It didn't define who he was.

As a matter of fact, I never saw anything but my brother.  Same true to this day.

But, I think after having Laynie, I finally have somewhat of an understanding how he must have felt all these years, with people taking second looks and sometimes staring a little too long.  And I never felt that pain with him.  I always thought they were looking at him because they knew how cool he was.  Clueless, with sister eyes, how I looked at my brother.

But the pain he has endured, I will never understand.  To say he is the bravest man I know is an understatement.  He's roll on the floor, pee in your pants funny, he can fart on demand in any key, and usually clear a room doing it, and can play any sport like a professional.  He is a master on the piano, can hear a song on the radio and go figure it out on the piano (I hate him), and can sing like a virtuoso.  In fact, when we were growing up, we had an act called, "The Dancing Brothers".  We should have been stars. 

This is what I see when I look at my brother.

He has fixed my toilets, my kids bikes, replaced garage doors and fences.  He has hauled me water, and food, talked love life strategy and we have lost our dad together. 

We share a mom we adore, we have given each other nieces and nephews that are irreplaceable, and he has been known to whistle like a wild man at my kid's sporting events.

He is my protector, my rival, my biggest pain, and my friend.   He has recently realized that life is better spent walking with God, and he is doing everything he can to find his way to Him.  And I pray for him everyday, that he will love God, with the same passion and fervor that I do. 

Because I cannot imagine my life, even after I've gone to heaven, without him.

For, who will carry my crown??   My bubba will.




3 comments:

  1. One of the best friends I have ever had.

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  2. Laura...I love reading about your devotion to your brother! Little Sisters are blessed...the end of your blog made me catch my own breath. But...can we have just one picture of him really holding your crown, though? ;) mjh

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