I Love Being My Brother's Sister

I was about ten years old when my brother, Joe, was born. There is an oddly wonderful, very-difficult-to-describe, different-than-normal sibling experience when you are old enough to remember every milestone in your younger siblings life. You wouldn't know the feeling if you haven't been there, and I am sure there is an equally indescribable feeling that comes from being the younger sibling when there is such a huge age gap. It's something no more special than any other sibling experience, but it is pretty unique.

I'll share a story, so you can get a little bit of a better feel for what I am talking about here. When Joe was about seven years old, he told me that he wanted a brother or sister. My response was "who do you think I am?".

"No, I mean like a real one. One that goes to the same school as me and wants to play with the same stuff."

"If you had a 'real' brother or sister, they probably wouldn't be old enough to take you to the movies, or make pancakes better than mom, and mom wouldn't trust you guys to just wonder off in the woods any place you please."

"Good point."

I'd say we both knew that our age gap was unusual, yet pretty cool. I know I have always been happy with it. Most people don't remember when their brother was born. I do. Vividly. It snowed that day. Do you remember your brothers first day of school? I do. I was so happy that he got the same kindergarten teacher I had ten years prior. And when he learned to walk, when he got old enough to ride in the front seat, when he was first trusted to cook something without burning the house down, I was there. I remember seeing the following absolutely precious keepsake as it was being made.



Today I got to make another really cool memory. And I have a feeling this one is gonna stick too. I took Joe to get his learner's permit today. I'll be the first to admit that the thought of Joe being able to drive has always terrified me. Not because I expected that he would be a bad driver, but because there are SO many other bad drivers, and his world would be open to so many more unimaginable dangers than it previously had been. But as I sat in the waiting room of the DMV while he took the test, I was thrilled and nervous and excited for Joe, not me. Sitting there wondering if he passed the test was getting to me, and finally I got up and took a peek into the office, where I saw Joe sitting in front of the camera. HE PASSED!!

I was so happy for him! I immediately went into "that's my little brother!!!" mode. I noticed the guy at the front desk was distracted, so I took the chance to mosey straight past him into the office. I was like the obnoxious mom at the school play. The one who creeps up to the very edge of the stage to get a perfect picture. Yes, I took his picture at the DMV, and as you can see, he was clearly expressing his desire not to have me flashing pics with my pinkberry.



Yep. I have many pictures with this look on Joe's face. The look that says, "Rachel, people aren't allowed to come up on the stage and take pictures!". I have embarrassed myself, and Joe, (well, mom and dad too) many a'time by making a total ass out of myself to get a shot of a milestone. Why would I act any different at a government run agency when Joe is legally an adult? This poor child has and always will have the burden of his sister following him with a camera. I cherish the memories too much not to capture them. Embarrassment, rules and regulations, even risk of arrest, would be unlikely to stop me. One day I will be all old, and the memories may start to fade, but at least I will have them well documented, in case I need to jog my memory a bit. Sorry, Joe, but I do it out of love:)

Here is another picture for you, just for shits and giggles.



Congratulations Joe. I love you and I am so proud of you. You are growing up, but you'll always be my "little brother". :)