I have one sibling – a brother, who is four years older than I. Yesterday was his birthday.

For almost four years, my brother was the only child and the only grandchild on both sides. He was so late in talking that everyone was worried. They eventually realized that he wasn’t talking yet because he didn’t need to; he would motion at or to something and six people would run and get it for him.

Because he was spoiled rotten the only child for so long, everyone was a little worried about what he would do with a new sibling. My mom says she knew things would be all right when she brought me home from the hospital and was sitting in a chair in front of the window at our house, rocking me. All of a sudden there were five little boy faces plastered against the window. My brother had brought all of his friends over to show off his little sister.

It was the start of a wonderful sibling relationship. We were best friends growing up. We constantly played together.

There was never a moment of difficulty with regard to me invading my brother’s life; he is not like that. I often wonder if the order of birth had been reversed, if I would have been so generous and accepting (that noise that you hear is my entire family saying “no” as they read this).

Now, things weren’t always perfect; he did try to boss me around some, which I didn’t always appreciate. Apparently I didn’t like to stand on sand as a kid. In the below picture, he is trying to get me over this fear.

Despite the age difference, we were truly close. In looking back at the pictures, I am struck by how he often had his arm around me.

Although always a big and athletic kid, my brother was very soft-hearted. At times, I wanted to be able to tell people that “my big brother would beat them up”, but I knew better. So, at about the age we were in the below picture, our roles reversed.

We were visiting my grandmother and my brother was out playing with the neighborhood bully, whose name was Billy. I heard the screen door slam and my brother came in and said to me “Go out there and punch Billy.” I walked outside, up to Billy and punched him; I turned around and walked back inside. And so it started. I beat people up for my older brother.

In all honesty, that only happened once, but I love to tease him about it to this day. My husband always gets upset with me as he worries that I am embarrassing my brother. One of the many things I love about him is that he just giggles and shakes his head. He may drive a Harley and (occasionally) smoke cigars, but he doesn’t have an ego or a macho personality.

Our closeness has continued throughout our lives. We have been through so much together – much of it incredibly good, but also sadness. I have seen my brother cry tears of happiness and joy. I know without a doubt that if I ever needed him, he would be there for me.  I always know what is going on in his life as he does mine. I know that when I call him, he will always answer – even if he is in a meeting – to make certain that I am ok. If he is in  the middle of something, he will answer the phone with “Are you ok?”  and then once assured that I am, he will ask if he can call me back.

I am so proud of him. After getting his MBA, he went to work in the railroad industry, following in our dad’s footsteps. I am convinced that he will one day be CEO.

He is also an incredible father. His kids adore him.

Although he is quite capable of taking care of himself, I still have his back; and I think he knows that.

Happy birthday brother and thank you for so enriching my life for forty-four years. I look forward to us growing old together. I love you.