cords on blinds
eating hot dogs
a wooden playpen
swimming in a pond with cows
cabinet doors without latches
summers without air conditioning
hanging wallpaper with my husband
eating peaches right off the tree
my high school guidance counselor
a mugging on the sidewalks of new york
roller skating without protective armor
riding in cars without carseats or seatbelts
telephones with no voicemail or answering machine or call waiting
bike riding before helmets, gloves, kneepads, and gears
an F on an undergraduate biology test (i was in love – i’ll tell you about it one day.)
and now: my brother going to afghanistan.
he leaves tomorrow night, and i’ve tried hard not to waste our time by missing him while we are together. but every now and then i kinda’ practiced, kinda’ opened that door to my heart just a teensy little bit to see if i could survive him being a world away.
why will i miss him?
oh, just let me tell you (some of) the ways:
he can keep secrets.
he always – and i mean always – has my back.
his soft spot for animals is about the size of the milky way. maybe bigger.
he’s so damn good on the golf course, i had to learn how to strut.
he has a deep insightfulness that sometimes takes my breath away and always keeps me thinking.
he tells the truth.
he is funny – i’m talking knee-slapping, side-hugging funny.
he wouldn’t know pretentious if it up and bit him on the nose.
he loves me just the way i am, bossiness and all.
my brother, of course