My Day

If there was no limit on time or money? If for a day I had endless possibilities?

I would go see my brother. I would drive the 7 hours through highways and country roads to visit him. I'd pack a big bag and stay a while. I'd ask about his car. In the shop again? We'd go straight to the lot and I'd buy him a new one. I'd buy him a nice truck to haul his stuff, no more borrowing from the neighbors. I'd ask about his school debt, credit cards? I'd call and pay them off, no more worries. We'd hang in the house, he'd talk about his days in culinary school as he cooked something inventive and delicious. After eating he'd glance around the house. "The walls could you use some paint." I'd comment. We'd drive over to the hardware store, grab a couple gallons, and paint for the rest of the afternoon. Tired and satisfied we'd head outside to sit in the yard. In lawn chairs, exhausted limbs limp at our sides. Happy to be done. Happy to be together. He'd roll one up, and we'd pass it back and forth. We'd talk about the past. Playing flashlight tag in the woods, riding bikes through the streets, and whittling wands to cast spells. We'd talk about our old dogs, and family camping trips. The time he accidently hit me with a baseball bat, or when he cut his thumb open trying to carve our names into a tree. I'd close my eyes and smile. My heart finally at peace.

My brother and I didn't get along for most of my childhood. We were close in age and nearly opposites. At one time or another, regrettably, I even said I hated my brother. But as our teens came to an end, so did our distain for one another. Our time together became fun, like two friends with a past in common. But in a flash he moved away. A little plot of land that felt too far for a weekend trip.

In my experience, the older you get, the more you realize that nothing matters more than your family. No boyfriend, job, vacation or disagreement matters more than your siblings. I know that one day my parents will be gone, and my brother will be the only one left. Our memories will align, we'll joke about my dad's habits, and smile as we think of our mom's singing. I think about this often, and I miss him terribly.

When eventually I would need to leave, I'd tell him what a good time I'd had. We share a hug, and I'd keep my cool. I slip in to my car, and back out of the driveway. I'd wave as long as I could, hand outstretched with the ASL sign for "I love you" like my parents always did. That's when the tears would begin to fall.

I'd be flooded with many emotions. I miss my brother, and I regret the distance we had as kids. I feel like I wasted time. My brother is a reckless person, maybe a little troubled. Sometimes as I wave good bye I worry if it will be the last time I see him. A fear I've never said out loud. A fear I try to bury.

Maybe this wasn't the writing you were hoping for. No trips to Italy or mansion buying, but it's the truth.