I am a middle child. I have an older sister named Maggie and a younger brother named Holden. My siblings mean the whole world to me and I could never express just how much they mean to me. Their birthdays are coming up this October, with Maggie turning twenty and Holden 13. Why do I mention this you ask? It’s because they will never let me forget it. My siblings and I are really close. We know just about everything about each other, like the best ways to get each other mad or hysterical laughing, there is no in between. They know more about me than I do myself.
I remember the day my brother was born, my uncle took us to school because my dad was going to the hospital with my mom. I did not shut up about how I was going to have a little brother by the day’s end.
He and I did everything together. From when we were little to now, where he towers over everyone in the room. Every game I had growing up he was there, just as I was there for all of his. Nobody warned me about that change. About how singing with my siblings in the car after practice would be so sorely missed. About how hearing about accomplishments from so far away would be so much harder. About how hearing that your mom made your favorite dinner without you and your sibling got the best piece.
I knew how it felt to be the sibling left behind, having to proceed without my sister there. It sucked, but you survived, you let life keep happening. In a shocking turn of events, it is much more annoying when you’re the one not eating mom’s chicken cutlet.
Not being near my little brother is weird. He was always a bit annoying and loud, but he was always there. If I was stressing over homework he would get me a cold glass of water and tell me to take a break. If he fell hard, I would laugh at him for falling and then help him back up. It’s weird not being able to do that. He may be five years younger than me, but he taught me some of the best lessons, like how to be more outgoing. After a week at school, he asked me if I had talked to anybody yet, and when I said that I had friends, he replied in genuine shock, absolutely stunned by the reality that I was capable of talking to people.
Siblings are difficult. For the first 18 years of life I could’ve strangled them, but as we get older, I value them a little more. I miss my brother but he never lets me miss him long enough before he informs me about my new “eyebags”. I suppose that’s what’s been helping me so far. Every single time I really miss my brother, I remind myself of how annoying he could be, and then I miss him a little more.
