Siblings

I have 6 of them. And thanks to my sister's wedding, I've actually been around all of them recently--at least a little bit.

My favorite thing about my oldest brother (C) on this visit wasn't his seemingly insatiable need for sweets and soda. No, it was more that he was genuinely interested in my kids. He also clicked immediately with my nephew COS. C has boys of his own, so it's not surprising that he would feel comfortable with our boys, but it was nice to see. I want my boys to know their uncles, even those that live far away. C has this quirky, dorky sense of humor that my mind just "gets" because of it's similarities to my father's humor and because I've known my brother a long time, even though he's not living near me. C is also the brother who's logical mind I consult for help in certain circumstances. I might have called my father before, but now I email my brother. I hope I can keep reading his book manuscripts before they are published to give him feedback and do a little proofreading. It's so much fun.

It can be hard to get a straight answer out of my next brother, B. This would be really annoying if it weren't for the fact that he's so funny. I love watching him with his kids. One reason I want to have a daughter so bad is that I've watched him with his daughter. Little girls needs adoring fathers who aren't ashamed to be smitten. That's how B is with his daughter. He's good to his son, too. Proud and all. Another thing about B is that he is smarter than crap. A good writer, well-read, athletically intelligent. When I was younger, B taught me a couple of things about how to make a smoothie (consult him for proper pronunciation) in a Bosch blender and encouraged me to try eating potato chips dipped in ranch dressing. Pivotal moments for me.

Sister J has taken care of me one way or another since I was a baby. She was 11 1/2 at my birth and tells of later carrying me around the house (722) on her hip and stopping in the doorway of each room for me to flip the lightswitches on or off. Her name was my first word. I remember discovering a few months ago that she's always been a little unsure about how much she liked her own first name. Seriously, hearing her say this sort of shook my whole world outlook. Who I am is that based on her being who she is. I know that might sound odd. Sorry. Even if J wasn't my sister, she would still be so painfully likeable and fun to be around. And I envy her musical talent every chance I get. If I can't have her piano playing abilities (I understand there's typically some work involved to get those), I'll settle for her ear. Having said all that, I think people too often reduce her to nothing but that musical talent, which is unfortunate. I value her emotional intelligence, her acceptance of me, and her wisdom from having done everything before I did.

Of the seven See-hiccuses, I was the original English major. But let's face it, I was 18, 19, 20 when I did it, and I never even chose an emphasis within my major. Literature, creative writing, rhetoric. I just didn't know. I didn't know why I was reading Austen and Eliot and Hardy. And I didn't stop to wonder if I liked any of them enough to read more. But the degree was finished. Then, only a few years ago, my brother H decided to go back to school and study--you guessed it--English Literature. And even though I'm sure he sometimes didn't know why he was reading certain things, he already knew something about what he liked and why and was ready to find more that he liked. I remember hearing him talk, when he was in high school, about how much he hated reading. So imagine my surprise when he took me into his closet on Hummel and showed me the beginnings of his collection of literature. Now H is so well-read that our conversations about literature inevitably end with me saying "no, I haven't read that." It's sad, but I love that we share a love of (some) Brit Lit. I also had the great blessing of living very close to H's home for about a year and a half. This gave me the chance to learn that H is a person I can rely on and trust. If I need help, and can get up the courage to ask, H will help me.

My brother J, not to be confused with my sister J, had to put up with years of his siblings saying "just you wait" to him whenever J said anything at all about childrearing. I think someone might have thought he didn't have it in him to handle parenting. But I have just seen him caring for his daughter with such inexhaustible patience and love. She was here without her mother and had been sick and really needed that patience and love, the unbearably darling little thing. That's not to say that J has it easy when we all thought he wouldn't, just that he is rising to the occasion, as any man worth his longjohns will. Because that's the thing about J. He can do hard things--make the seemingly impossible situation work out, say the awkward thing that needs to be said. Heck, he can even do granite. Which I think about all the time when I look at my kitchen and bathroom countertops. Gosh, I'm making him sound so serious, when really, he's one of the funniest guys I know. Funniest.

It has to say something about my sister L that I spent my whole childhood and adolescence being compared to her and falling short of the high bar she set, yet I never felt angry or resentful toward her. She was (and is) stellar at nearly everything, and that included being a big sister. One of the coolest things I got to do was be her roommate for about 2 years in college. Talk about instant friend hook-ups. But it also gave me a sense of safety having her there. Ok, so there was that one summer where it seemed to me she did nothing but watch 90210 reruns, but, hey, unemployment can do that to a person. I am still so glad we had that time living together before I up and got married at the ripe old age of 20. L has this radiance that makes people want to be around her. An energy that is contagious. I like to think that her brain and mine work in exactly the same way, but hers just works a couple hundred times more efficiently than mine does.

Now, do I have to say that as I sat composing all this, it occurred to me that I could say many of the same things about all six of them? Funny, intelligent, admirable, kind. That I sat here narrowing down and narrowing down some more the details I would highlight about each sibling? That I couldn't possibly really write about these people in a blogpost--can't capture them or my feelings about them. No. I don't think I need to say all that.

But here's what I'm realizing. When it comes to my brothers, I want so much for them to think their baby sister is cool. I want them to like me. When it comes to my sisters, I want more than anything for them to need me.

Who would I be without these six people towering over me? Now there, my friends, is a frightening question indeed.