Today is the thirty-year anniversary of me becoming a big sister. Even though Curtis is now a thirty year old man who stands at 6'4", a home owner, a husband and the father of two, he will always be my little brother. I remember the day they brought his 12-pound newborn self home from the hospital to Janetwood and standing in the garage to greet him. I remember all the trouble he got into as a child and how I always felt somewhat responsible because I was supposed to watch him and take care of him and be a role model. It is because of the drama between us as children that I seriously considered not giving Casey a sibling.
I also remember family road-trips together where he'd lay across the back of the station wagon on my lap so I could scratch his back (that is when we didn't need the cooler between us to stop us from touching each other!). I remember playing He-Man and GI Joe with him in the sun room. I remember going to his little league baseball games and cheering him on. I remember how he'd promise to be quiet if he could just hang out in my room with me and my friends. Or how we had walkie-talkies so we could talk at night even though our rooms were literally a foot away from one another. And how we had matching pajamas on Christmas Eve and we'd always sleep in the same room anticipating all the presents we'd see the next morning.
Today, Curtis is my friend. He is my son's uncle. He's the person I call when I need to cry about my mother or my Gran being my mother and my Gran. He's a confidant and basically an all-around fun person to hang out with. He's a hell of a cook, can shoot a gun like no one's business and is great with his hands as a contractor/handy man. We have been through thirty years of ups and downs. There was even a period of time where we didn't speak at all. Now I can't imagine my life without him and I think he's great. I hope he has a very happy birthday and that I can share at least thirty more with him.