you're like a brother to me
We drove my parents crazy. Sharing the armrest was out of question for the us, so we would fight for it until one of us was bitten or punched by the other.
And when I turned 16, and came back from a year in Ireland, things changed and I was finally at the age when we could be friends.
We used to drive home from school in his old Jetta, music blaring, the back seats filled with binders and garbage. We would go get food, pick up groceries, stop at the mall.
We’d cook dinners together, always with passion and plenty of garlic.
We would sit out on the deck at night, smoking, drinking, him strumming away at his guitar. I still can’t think of a more comforting sound than his voice singing Howie Day or Jack Johnson.
One night we went and visited our older brother downtown for dinner. On the bus home we ran into one of his friends. When she found out what we’d been doing that night she asked, “You mean, you guys actually like hanging out together?”
Another night we went to the same party, a mixture of his friends and a few of mine. He spilt red wine all over my white t-shirt, and we spent half the night together laughing and talking to friends.
He drove to get my learner’s license for my third try, when I finally succeeded.
When he moved downtown I visited every weekend in his large artist’s apartment. When the building had an open house he let me sing like a fool and play his keyboard as people walked through his place to see his artwork.
I have always felt alive around my brother. He is artistic, talented, passionate and has unique ideas. He can cook, sing, paint, and throw together the most beautiful graphic designs you can imagine in minutes.
Now that he’s living outside Toronto I escape to visit him whenever I can. It makes life more bearable knowing he’s only a train ride away. That all it takes is us getting together to cook dinner for me to feel at home again.
Today is his birthday, so I’m hoping to come down sometime soon to celebrate. For now I just hope he knows how much I love him, admire him, and would want to be his friend even if we weren’t blood related.