As we grew older, we became less competitive. We still fought from time to time, but our relationship began to resemble more of a friendship than that of two adversaries. He still played jokes on me and I still followed him around, but now my presence was a little more acceptable around him and his friends.
We became teenagers and for one year, attended high school together. I was the lowly freshman, while he was the popular senior. He drove me to school, not necessarily because he wanted to, but mainly because it was required. I still followed him around on occasion, and with time, it became more than just acceptable, but often appreciated.
We graduated from high school and went to college. Again, I was the lowly freshman, while he was the popular senior. This time we rode to school together by choice, not as part of a requirement. I didn't have to follow him around, but was instead welcomed as part of his circle of friends.
Fast forward three years later. He is graduating from law school while I am graduating from college. Our schools were separated by four hours, but our graduation ceremonies were on the same day. I suppose we had learned to like doing things together, and graduating on the same day was only fitting. I walked across the stage, received my diploma, kept walking to the car, and with my parents, made the four hour trip to arrive in time to see him earn his law degree.
While our lives are now more hectic than ever and our homes are separated by an hour drive, he still remains one of my favorite people on the planet. I look up to him. I admire the person he is and all he has accomplished. He's my brother and my best friend.
I have many great memories of our childhood spent together. I recall summer days spent playing soccer, baseball, basketball, or any other sport we could play with the neighborhood kids. I remember family vacations, arguing in the car until my parents had to separate us. There was the day he tied me to a tree while we were playing and the time I proved myself worthy of being able to play soccer with his friends.
One of my favorite memories, however, were days spent riding our Big Wheels up and down our gravel driveway. These tricycle-like vehicles had a large front wheel and smaller back wheels, all made of plastic. With streamers on the handlebars and fun colors, Big Wheels were the envy of every kid when I was growing up.
Always wanting to be like my brother, I followed his lead when riding my Big Wheel. Pedaling as fast as I could, I would slam on the brakes, turn the steering wheel, skid across the rocky surface, sending up a white cloud of dust, as the plastic wheels skipped and fought to gain traction. My dad would plead with us to stop, as our driving inevitably tore up the gravel driveway and burned holes in the plastic wheels.
As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I recently spent an evening sorting through a box of old family photos. As I was searching for the picture to prove my point about the living room paneling, I came across this picture of my brother, me, and my Aunt MeMe with our Big Wheels.
Oh, how I remember those Big Wheels and the fun we had! I can picture us riding up and down the driveway, racing one another and seeing who could slide the farthest across the gravel before coming to a stop. Being the big brother, he always won, but that didn't stop me from trying to outdo him.
In many ways, I still want to be like him. I aspire to make him proud and to live up to the reputation he has established. We're still competitive from time to time, but we no longer fight or argue. He's one of my biggest fans and I am one of his. He's my brother and my best friend.
My brother, Scott.
My brother and I were the opposite...I was the popular senior when he was the lowly freshman. How incredible that you both graduated on the same day! What a great post. I talked to my brother on the phone today, we did not have much to say, but we have that connection that you can only have with a sibling and it is super special.
ReplyDeleteI had a Cabbage Patch Big Wheel as a child. It was lavender, cream, and aqua. There was a basket attached to the back for carting your doll. I imagine it was meant to be ridden delicately since there was a baby on board, after all. However, I rode it with the passion go a motocross driver. I too would pedal as fast as nature would allow, down the hill, and throw my legs to the side when the wheel would spin faster than my feet could rotate. I rode it until the wheels cracked and split. Great memories. Thanks for igniting them for me.
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