Tuesday's gone with the wind, my baby's gone with the wind...
July 30, 2004
Well, that�s it. My little brother has flown the coop and left us for a two-week conference for �global youth leaders� in DC, followed by orientation at the University of Miami. Our baby is all grown up, and since he left two days ago we have been practically in mourning, each in our own way. I for example, have become extremely ill � fever, coughing, runny nose. In the middle of Egyptian summer. Yeah, I am not convinced that his leaving and my getting sick are unrelated.
Many friends have failed to understand the strong attachment I have to my little brother, who treats me by all means, like the biggest enemy of his life. Or rather, he did up until maybe a year ago, when I think he started to realize that I am perhaps his biggest ally, especially in the conservative household in which we were raised. I know that oftentimes I was tough on him, but I was also always on his side. I admire my brother, above all else, for his will and his insistence on getting what he wants. Basically, I admire him for, for better or worse, standing up to my parents. Usually, it is the older child that paves the way for the younger ones, but since my sister is the model child, and I was always more content to just do my own thing and not bother anyone and hope that they don�t bother me, it fell to my brother to fight for the right to party, study, and act like he wanted.
Anyway, I mostly just wanted to wax poetic about what my brother means to me. About how, from the day I found out that my mom was pregnant I hoped and prayed that it would be a boy. I kept my fingers crosses throughout the pregnancy; I shunned one of my mom�s close friends at the time who dreamt that she saw three flowers being given to my mother, which apparently meant that she would have another girl; I used to yell about how we didn�t �need anymore girls.� Yup, I was a regular chauvinist as a little girl, all because I wanted to have a brother so that when he grew up he would have a motorcycle and taking me out for rides on it. Because, it�s not like, you know, I could have gotten my own motorcycle or anything.
I remember so clearly, despite being only 5 years old, the day that my brother was born. I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when my father called up and told us that �it�s a boy!� and the happiness that ensued. And that happiness that has continued since that day, despite the fact that, as a result maybe of being the youngest, and having spent most of his life in the lap of luxury in the Middle East, my brother can be a spoiled, obnoxious, frat-boy type that I would probably not befriend if he wasn�t family. I love him dearly, and I think he�s the greatest thing since sliced bread. Really. Because I know what he�s been through, and I know how he�s grown especially in the last couple of years with his share of personal tragedies. And I know what he�s like when his guard is down�when he�s sick and just needs a hug, or when some girl has really hurt him, or when he�s around any little kid. I�ve seen the kindness and tenderness that he�s capable of, and also of the incredible mental and physical achievements he�s capable of.
But mostly I just know that since the day he was born he has been the light and spirit of our house, and there�s a long road of boring ahead.
The other day, I went to steal some toilet paper from my brother�s bathroom, as I often do. It seems that either I EAT toilet paper or a lot of people are using my bathroom when I�m not looking. In any case, I always have negative TP while the bro seems to have a surplus and so we always steal from him. There were two rolls in his cupboard, but I only took one, I guess subconsciously thinking that when he comes back IN SIX MONTHS he�ll be really pissed to see that he has no TP and will immediately know who to blame. Heh. There has been a lot of family waiting since he left. We�ll be sitting at the table eating lunch and you can tell that all of us are just waiting to hear the key turning in the door and find my brother bursting in dusty and tanned after a two hour baseball practice.
*sigh*
It�ll be a while till the house is filled again with his noise, and I�m torn between missing him incredibly, and being so incredibly excited for him and this next period in his life.
My baby�s off to college. The last of us kids has gone off to find his future, and I don�t think any of us can say we are unafraid. But I wish him well, and I know that he�s going to be great. Just great.