Younger Brother

It was a relaxing day, the sun was out, and like any other day, I used my time as a wise person would, in the most interesting way, by bugging my younger brother.

I must have been four at the time and my brother was only a small number of weeks old, still too young to have hair upon his head. He had the attention span of a flea most of the time, but today his widened to the attention span of a poodle. As I always loved to do, I lay in his crib with him trying to become loving siblings, but somehow it always ended up with him disliking me.

Today, I carried with me one of the most prized possessions I had ever known existed; my bear, with the completely original name of “Bearie the Bear.” He was a small bear, only about a foot or so long and covered in a white, plush material with two big brown eyes staring into my mine. His face consisted of an unceasing smile and a brown mussel.

I took my usual walk down the hallway from my room to his, with the sunlight illuminating me as I strolled. I walked into his pastel baby room, starring at his wooden crib in the far left corner. Soon enough my mom followed me in, to make sure I didn’t harass my baby brother. With her, she brought an intricate, jet-black camera, which she recorded most of our childhood upon.

I walked over 
to his crib, and my mom grabbed me
 by the armpits, lifting me onto his 
tiny bed. As soon as my junior foot
 touched the soft sheets he lay upon,
 Morgan awoke from his slumber.

I
 could immediately see his tiny eyes
 drift toward the direction of my bear. They were dead set on 
him, not looking anywhere else.
 I could not bear to see the enthused 
yet mischievous look on his face, but
 I snuck a glare. To my misfortune, I
 could see a twinkle in his eyes that I 
had never seen before. None of this mattered though because there was no way that he was pilfering my bear.

He tried to grab it from my hands multiple times but failing every single one of them. I had a great advantage being the taller one, for once in my life. My mom saw him struggling and scolded me for “unnecessary taunting”, whatever that meant.

As my punishment, my mom stole my prized possession and gifted it to my younger brother.  Still, to this day, I think about how somewhere deep inside his closet, is my bear.

 

Photo Credit: cdn3.volusion.com

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An Amazing Trio

Up until eight years ago, I was the younger sibling in my family. I had my brother up until then, who is two years older than me. When my mom told me that I was going to have a little sister, I was ecstatic. I always thought of my brother as being a meanie, so I was hoping that with some luck, Hope, my little sister, would be a great addition to the family. Turns out she is quite the trouble maker.

Before I had my little sister around, I was stuck with my big brother, Cole. Cole and I have never seen eye to eye. He was the annoying ten year-old bothersome brother that I think most sisters get stuck with. Anyways, Cole probably didn’t like me very much when I was younger. It would explain why he always smashed my Lego houses after I was done building them. Or maybe he just wanted his Legos back. The world will never know. I think Cole and I get along much better now that we are older. We still of course keep on calling each other names. I don’t think that is ever going to change.

Oh Hope. Where to begin with Hope? My little eight year-old sister who thinks that she is the boss of me. She was the sweetest thing alive until the age of two. I knew she would be trouble when she broke my nose with a flashlight.  I got to give her credit for having such strength at the age of two. Somedays, I wish I could put her in a soundproof bubble though. Other days, she is the cutest thing alive. It mostly depends if I’m willing to play with her or if she has to jump on me to get my attention.

The three of us are pretty awesome together. At times, we want to kill each other, but that’s siblings for you. No matter how much you hate them that day, they are the best family you got. I love my brother and sister (most days) and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Family.

This weekend, my Mom came down all the way from Santa Cruz to see me and take me out for the weekend. I was counting down the days until I could see her, and when she finally got here, it was the best feeling ever.

Each day, whether it is on purpose or not, I think about my family. My mom, dad, brother, and sister. All of them cross my mind at some point during the day. Even if we are fighting or haven’t talked in a while, I always think about them no matter what.

Before I came to this school, I guess I never realized the importance of family. I took them for granted more than I even like to admit and I did not pay them enough respect. But being away from them for so long has lead me to truly appreciate all of my family in every single way.

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All of the things my parents have done, whether they have been good or bad in my perspective, have been for me, my sister, and my brother. Looking back, I cannot say I would have had them do anything differently. Of course, in some of those moments, I thought I absolutely hated them because of some decisions that were made or rules that were enforced. Some punishment seemed like the end of the world. But my parents had a much different perspective than me, of course – they did things that they believed would be best in the long run rather than short-term.

Time spent apart from my family was, at first, something that I really enjoyed. And to some extent, I still enjoy it. But a larger part of me realizes that in the past years, I have not spent time with them the way that I should have. I spent more time complaining about what we didn’t do and things that didn’t go my way that I have not cherished the memories with them.

And, even though friends can be considered to some people family as well, there are only those few people related to you by blood that are truly of the utmost important. No matter who you spend the majority of your time with, or who has been the most prominent guiding figure throughout your life, family is the root of your existence. Family is the reason that you are on this earth. Family should be the most important thing in each and everyone’s life. They are the people that have made you who you are.

I will never take them for granted again.
Who knows how much longer we have left?