On his twenty-first birthday, a letter to the kid that burst my only-child bubble,
I know you’ve never quite gotten over my initial rejection of you, little brother, but I think after two decades I have. Your presence in my life initiated a lot of frustration and inflicted a lot of bodily harm, but we have both survived and we’re all the better for it.
And I know you hate the mushy stuff, but just for one real second, I want to tell you :
Thank you for helping me grow a tougher skin.
Thank you for helping me laugh with your dumb humor, even at your own expense.
Thank you for always telling me when I’m being a little (a lot) crazy, and for supporting me when I’m not.
Thank you for being a pillar in my life, a sounding board, a deep-text-conversations-late-at-night kind of friend.
Thank you for surprising me with your wisdom and encouragement and for bearing my burdens.
I always set out to help you, but your words always help me instead.
I’m thankful that God gave me a “baby boy brother” instead of the “baby girl sister” I wailed for in the doctor’s office 21 years ago.
I love you. Cheers!