Two weeks ago, my older brother moved to Spain. For the months leading up to to his departure, I had told myself that it wouldn’t change things. I told myself, “It’s not like we live together or hang out together, except for an occasional movie here and there…It will be fine.” I had not prepared to say goodbye at the airport, in fact, I was in a whirlwind of denial up until the security gate. We reached the gate and he pulled me in for a hug, and I broke. It felt as though I were saying goodbye forever. I wasn’t seeing him as my older brother leaving for an amazing journey, but I was seeing who he was to me when we were kids.
You see, he and I have always been different, but have grown to become quite different from one another. (In my own mind, I always harped on how unlike each other we are). He is outgoing, can make friends with literally anyone or anything, loves to be on the go, and has a passion for movies and food. I, however lean towards the more shy and introverted type (although I love people, I don’t need to be around them as much), who loves to read and has a love affair with music. Once we were teenagers, these differences, among many other factors, caused a rift in our once inseparable partnership. When we were young, I was at his beck and call, ready for any adventure he had planned. We lived on a cul de sac, and essentially, we were all each other had. Hugging him in Logan International Airport, those memories of us as children, living on Gypsy Lane, flooded through every cell and fiber of my being. I saw our differences and for once, reveled in them. My brother has helped me enjoy life, when there were times I didn’t think I could. He is indelibly a huge part of who I am today.
And today he turns 30.
I love you Chris, Happy Birthday.