Everyone is made of many defining moments, some large, some small. Some are self inflicted, some are inflicted by others, and some just completely out of everyone hands, just a draw of chance.
As I have mentioned before, I have three brothers. The oldest, I shall call him C, and he was/is the token athlete. Always strutting around like a puffed up rooster, even to this day, that is how I would describe him. He's not a bad person, but he does not like me. And That Is Okay. I don't like him much either.
C has always been into sports, hunting, anything that generally makes a man a man. I don't have many good memories of just him and I. He wasn't what you'd call a supportive, loving sibling. He teased me to the point of tears more times than any other person in this world. Heartbreaks included.
He is, of course, Grown now. He has a beautiful wife, a beautiful home, a successful life. He's a good man, a wonderful husband, a supportive son, and a role model to many. But once upon a time, he made me wish that I was never born. This is very painful for me, I'm not one for self pity, and I hate to say anything bad about someone I love. (And just so the world knows, I Love Him. I might not like him, but I love him.)
According to my mother, he taught me how to ride a bike. This, I do not remember. I'm sure it was great, I'm sure he praised me. I don't remember when my mother told me, that he taught me, it was before I was 10. But, I like to imagine it. My brother being kind, because there is only one time in my entire childhood, that my brother seemed to enjoy my presence in this big wonderful world.
I was 14. I was on the track and field team. Just thinking about that night brings tears to my eyes, and a smile to my face. He wanted to show me all the ways that I could help develop muscles to help in shot-put. His voice had never been so happy while talking to me, he even laughed. Now, he'd do this with other people, but what I was used to hearing, were animal noises when I entered the room. Usually the sound of a Cow. "mooooooo" Anyways, I'm off point.
My brother was showing me ways to throw the disc. Being all muscle, in an old house, this alerted my mother of some alarming pounding noises. C is not graceful, and moved with the grace of a stampeding buffalo. She ran downstairs. I'm sure she was prepared to yell at us, we weren't the age to be wresting all over the house. Upon entering the kitchen, she stopped short. Seeing my brother and I, smiling. I probably looked half scared, because this is something that had never happened. She told us to keep it down, didn't even bother yelling as she herself was shocked. Then she walked back to bed.
I don't know what happened after that, except that he went upstairs as well. Our maybe twenty minutes of civil, actually, quite friendly interaction came to an end. It filled me with hope. Maybe he wouldn't be mean to me anymore... well, that didn't happen. Life returned to normal. But, it taught me something. Something about people in general. Even the people we don't like, the people who we'd dream would like us, they have positives. They can be nice people to. Just because I don't like them, doesn't mean they are bad people.
This reminds me of something my step-father used to say. "To each their own" Every person we hate, can't stand, criminals, liars, cheaters, co-workers (ha) have people that love them, like them, maybe even admire them on some level that we ourselves just can't comprehend.
Thank You for reading my post!
You can find my Defining Moments-Part One here
