We played Cowboys and Indians with his plastic six-shooters, we spun each other mercilessly on the tire swing, we were "stranded" in the wilderness of our barnyard with only our dog and swords made of sticks (with which we would of course duel each other once in a while) for protection, we sprayed each other with Super-Soakers and the garden hose, we broke imaginary horses in our old corrals and rode them across the country on wild and daring adventures, we played restaurant with bark and mud pies and salads made out of grass, we spent our winters sledding down the steepest hills and taking shelter from the wind in the barn, we played safari with our plastic animals in the tall grass & weeds outside the yard, we even threw rocks at each other and tried to choke each other out of consciousness, as all loving siblings do (Evan will claim I did most of the choking, but he did most of the throwing!).
He was always the one person I could count on to be there whether I needed a guy's opinion on something, was having a bad day, or just wanted someone to watch a movie with. I don't really remember being embarrassed to have my little brother tagging along (actually, I think he was more embarrassed to have his big sister always butting into his business). I think I was even a little overprotective sometimes, wanting to protect my little brother, no matter how emasculating that may have been.
Then I remember coming home from college and my little brother had, in just over a year, grown to 6'3" and became the desire of nearly every girl in high school within a 60 mile radius. The same kid who used to come up to my ear now towered over me & was the most popular guy in school! I often joke that if he didn't look so much like our dad, I might be asking questions (haha, just kidding Mom & Dad!). He was the first to actually be the "protective one" for me when it came to boyfriends (which, to a girl who always kind of felt like the ugly duckling in comparison to her big sister, was a pretty great feeling).
One night, I ignored a call from a strange number in the wee morning hours. The next morning our sister called to ask what happened to Evan and was he ok? It turned out he had been calling all of us and no one had answered all night. He was trying to reach me after wrapping his car around a pole and breaking his collarbone, and I had just hit "ignore" and gone back to sleep. I have never felt worse in my life, and I'm not sure I've ever really forgiven myself for not answering that call and being there for my brother.
Granted, we have kind of grown apart over the years, but I still know that, no matter what, I could call him right now, and he would be there for me. If I ever needed a place to go or help with ANYTHING, he would be there. Because that's what brothers do. I just hope he knows that that's what sisters do as well :)
So, in short, my little brother turned 23 today. And I just wanted to let him know that the last 23 years have been wonderful, largely in part because I had such a great companion to grow up with. Here's to the next 23, little brother, and I don't care how tall you get, you will ALWAYS be my little brother :)
Happy Birthday, Evan!
