Some Sibling Love

Today I feel compelled to give my brother some blog love. Many of you dedicated readers know my baby brother is a huge part of my life.

From birth, I thought he was my baby. Well, he was. Regardless of what mom said, he was my baby too. Not just a sibling but so much more. Mom has told us countless stories about me getting up in the middle of the night, dragging my little pink chair to the side of his crib, pulling him out of his crib and putting him in the bed with me. If you know us well, you know that I was and still am, quite a bit smaller than Jeff. And how she would wake up scared to death that something was wrong because she couldn't find her baby, only to find him cuddled up with me, in my bed. Her and dad posted up one night to watch how this all unfolded. As you can imagine, I am sure it was quite entertaining as my brother weighed more than me at birth. If he got in trouble, I usually ended up getting in trouble too, for crying about it. If he got a spanking, I got a spanking. We were like two peas in a pod.

Then the teenage years came and he was the bratty little brother that told on me for everything, and I do mean everything. He even brought me to tears once, threatening to shoot me (with a nerf gun), stuff me in the dryer, and watch my body go around and around. That's love.

Don't get me wrong I loved him to the moon, but I wanted to strangle him at the same time. Even through these years, I still cried when he got into trouble or got hurt. I still talked to him about everything, he was my buddy. So much so that when I left the house and headed out to college, he had to start sleeping on the couch. You see, he slept with me almost his entire first 12 years. After I left he developed these awful night terrors, that I cried and prayed about for years.

Now we are all grown up. He is like my best pal. He practically lived at my house his senior year of high school, well, at least most weekends you would find him and Jessica there. He held my hair back the first morning I had morning sickness with Jake, he was there all night long when I gave birth to Jake, he was there for me when Travis passed and he has talked me through many of tears. I love that kid more than words can describe, for all of the times he has held my hand, hair, kid, whatever needed in times of sorrow and times of joy.

Watching him get on a bus with a gun wrapped around his body and head off to war was quite possibly one of the hardest things I have ever done. It was the longest, most stressful, 7 months of my life. With each day came more prayers for a quicker, safe return. Then came the phone calls of him being injured and us not being able to get any information. There is nothing more unsettling than getting a call that your brother has been injured and is in the hospital in war zone and not knowing any information. The next 9 days were the most bittersweet of this deployment. For 9 days we heard from him daily, we knew that he was "safe" but we knew that he was hurt. He didn't remember us, nor did he remeber what had happened, but he was alive and that my friends is enough for this sister.

Today, he went for a CAT scan and now we must wait patiently for the results on Friday. I have been praying and crossing all ten fingers and toes for good news to follow. He was severely injured twice while in Afghan and both times he suffered from major head trauma. Something all the doctors thought would clear up by now. It hasn't and to some degree I think it has gotten worse. They are saying that he could possibly have some bleeding in his brain and if that is the case there is a pretty evasive surgery to follow very quickly. Please pray with me.

My baby brother will always be my baby. He will always be my little buddy, and my best pal. He is still a brat and we still have our brother/sister moments. But, he is a very large part of my heart. He is my brother, my friend, & my hero. I love him to the moon.

Oh, how I wish I could drag that little pink chair to get him now.......