BROTHER TIM
One of those cold, blistery December days over 50 years ago, we brought my baby brother home from the hospital. He was tightly wrapped in his baby blanket and lying calmly on our Mother's lap in the car's front seat. I kept looking over her shoulder to glimpse this precious baby boy.
After arriving home, I slipped quietly into our parent's room to get a good look. I just couldn't believe how perfectly beautiful he was. I kept thinking how lucky I was to have a real, live baby to love.
And a perfect brother he proved to be. He brought so much joy into our house. All of us delighted in every stage of his life. He was a quiet and happy child. One brutal Texas Panhandle winter when he was 3 years old, he exclaimed, "The trees are naked!" My Mother submitted his quote to Reader's Digest as a cute comment from a young child, but I don't believe it was published. We thought he was a sage observer.
When Daddy came home from work, he had to call out, "Hey Knucklehead!" and our darling brother would come laughing and running through the house as he headed toward Daddy's booming voice and open arms. I'm sure my Dad treasured this memory for the rest of his life.
Tim was always my beloved little brother. I stopped calling him 'Timmy' a few years ago, only after being told at least a hundred times that I was the only one to call him Timmy rather than Tim. I've cooled it a bit, but I still frequently slip.
As a teenager, I could count on my brother to station himself at the front window waiting for me to get home after a date. He had a bird's eye view of goodnight kisses on the front porch. I must have yelled at him when he did it, but the memory of it now brings a smile to my heart.
My older brother and I often teased him when he was little. Unlike my older brother and me, his coloring was light, with blue eyes and blonde hair. We had olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. Naturally, we told him he was adopted. On our long drives to our grandparent's homes or vacations, we would point out cows and tell him they were horses and vice versa. When we had pecan pie, we'd say to him it was a pie made of bugs. He won't eat pecan pie to this day. Now that I think about it, we probably messed with his head too much. That could explain everything.
Tim was an outstanding athlete and very popular in school. He was, and still is, a good-looking guy. He always had an upbeat, optimistic demeanor about him. Everyone wanted to be his friend.
Since he seemed on the quiet side at home, I wrongly interpreted this as meaning he might not be as 'intellectual' as his older brother and sister. Boy, did I ever get carried away with myself! I discovered how wrong I was when we played board games during a particularly long, snowy Christmas holiday at our parent's house as adults. Tim could beat every one of us at Trivia Pursuits or any other game we might want to play. It was astonishing. And he did it quietly...kind of like a fox that sneaks up on hens and snatches them all before they even realize what's happening.
As we entered adulthood, Tim became my best friend and closest confidant. I could always count on him supporting me, even though I lived a life that many might think was odd. We would frequently call each other for several years, although regrettably, it is now much less frequent. I miss those conversations, but I know that we have loved each other unconditionally all of our lives.
The years and circumstances have seen our closeness wane, but if you were around us for those rare moments when we're together, you'd soon discover that we are still each other's biggest fans.
So, while I might call him 'Tim' now, he'll always be 'Timmy' in my heart.
12-14-09
After arriving home, I slipped quietly into our parent's room to get a good look. I just couldn't believe how perfectly beautiful he was. I kept thinking how lucky I was to have a real, live baby to love.
And a perfect brother he proved to be. He brought so much joy into our house. All of us delighted in every stage of his life. He was a quiet and happy child. One brutal Texas Panhandle winter when he was 3 years old, he exclaimed, "The trees are naked!" My Mother submitted his quote to Reader's Digest as a cute comment from a young child, but I don't believe it was published. We thought he was a sage observer.
When Daddy came home from work, he had to call out, "Hey Knucklehead!" and our darling brother would come laughing and running through the house as he headed toward Daddy's booming voice and open arms. I'm sure my Dad treasured this memory for the rest of his life.
Tim was always my beloved little brother. I stopped calling him 'Timmy' a few years ago, only after being told at least a hundred times that I was the only one to call him Timmy rather than Tim. I've cooled it a bit, but I still frequently slip.
As a teenager, I could count on my brother to station himself at the front window waiting for me to get home after a date. He had a bird's eye view of goodnight kisses on the front porch. I must have yelled at him when he did it, but the memory of it now brings a smile to my heart.
My older brother and I often teased him when he was little. Unlike my older brother and me, his coloring was light, with blue eyes and blonde hair. We had olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. Naturally, we told him he was adopted. On our long drives to our grandparent's homes or vacations, we would point out cows and tell him they were horses and vice versa. When we had pecan pie, we'd say to him it was a pie made of bugs. He won't eat pecan pie to this day. Now that I think about it, we probably messed with his head too much. That could explain everything.
Tim was an outstanding athlete and very popular in school. He was, and still is, a good-looking guy. He always had an upbeat, optimistic demeanor about him. Everyone wanted to be his friend.
Since he seemed on the quiet side at home, I wrongly interpreted this as meaning he might not be as 'intellectual' as his older brother and sister. Boy, did I ever get carried away with myself! I discovered how wrong I was when we played board games during a particularly long, snowy Christmas holiday at our parent's house as adults. Tim could beat every one of us at Trivia Pursuits or any other game we might want to play. It was astonishing. And he did it quietly...kind of like a fox that sneaks up on hens and snatches them all before they even realize what's happening.
As we entered adulthood, Tim became my best friend and closest confidant. I could always count on him supporting me, even though I lived a life that many might think was odd. We would frequently call each other for several years, although regrettably, it is now much less frequent. I miss those conversations, but I know that we have loved each other unconditionally all of our lives.
The years and circumstances have seen our closeness wane, but if you were around us for those rare moments when we're together, you'd soon discover that we are still each other's biggest fans.
So, while I might call him 'Tim' now, he'll always be 'Timmy' in my heart.
12-14-09
(Update on 2/6/2023: We no longer speak due to his manipulation and collusion with our Mother. I hope all her money and assets are worth it, and that he at least ensures she's taken care of before the money runs out. Family members are sometimes the source of intense pain, a pain that's only assuaged by walking away. Am I also bitter about my Mother and brothers? Hell, yes!)
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