"Hey Brother!"

Some of you might recognize that title line.  It's from Tony Hale, a.k.a. Buster, from Arrested Development.  I've found myself quoting that line to my brother a lot lately.  And mimicking Dwight from The Office, as I defiantly state, "Question," before leading into any question I have for him.  

My little brother moves out of my house Saturday.  I have felt our time winding down, and have sensed his tension and nervous anticipation of what is to come.  I'm more patient with him than I am with some people.  We get each other.  We've always seen each other for who we are.  

I remember the first time I ever felt like I truly bonded with him.  I must have been about 17, so he would have been 8.  I was busy living the life of a rebellious and deeply discontent teenager, and I can't say I had been giving him a whole lot of attention around that time.  We were talking, and although I can't remember where, I know we were in the last house we lived in as a family before my parents split.  My little brother asked me about the smelly stuff that was always drifting from my room, so I invited him in to pick out some incense to burn.  I'll never remember everything we talked about that day, and I'll never forget bonding with him over incense. Wrinkling up his nose and expressing a sour look, he asked me why I always listened to music with people screaming or making awful noises.  

Now, I thought that was funny.  But I also wanted to explain myself.  I told him not all the music I listened to consisted of what sounded like screaming, but most of the music had lyrics that spoke to me somehow, or sentimental value of some sort.  I'm not sure how long we sat there talking and listening to my favorite cd's, but it's a sacred memory of mine. I remember feeling as if I connected with my little brother on a more personal level for the first time that day.  I began to see him as a very impressionable little person.  

Later I would hold his hand and encourage him with words when our parents got divorced.  Then through our sister's death, his graduation, his first several years of college, and through his break up with his first love.

The last couple of years I have felt like he has been my shoulder.  We've taken turns leaning; changed roles if you will.  He's become quite adept at listening to a woman talk. Anyone who knows me well knows I can talk. I've become keenly aware of how he keeps the remote handy when I'm passing through the room.  That way, he can be quick to pause his show when I start talking. He's learned that once I start, if I have something weighing on me, it's going to be a while.  Mostly at night, after the kids have gone to sleep, and a lot more often since I've been going through this breakup.  

Plenty of my girlfriends say, "If only I was 10 years younger!"  He really will make quite the husband one day.  He helps out around the house, he's great with the kids, AND he's a great listener! There have been conversations when he has given me ten minutes  to finish my convo before it's his turn to speak.  But even that makes me smile because I know how I ramble when I get excited!

So I hate to see him go, but I am excited for him as well.  I can't wait to see where life takes him.  I'm grateful for the times we've had.  And I'm truly looking forward to the future.  New chapters are beginning in our lives, and although at times that can be scary, I welcome the change today.