My Younger Brother

My sister inspired me to dedicate a blog post to my younger brother (her older brother). She wrote about her big bro helping her across the highway and saving her. I remember something else. We had a large buggy--perhaps you remember them-huge wheels and a place to lay the baby down. In England they are called pram's or something like that. Anyway-when Bro was two years old he was in the baby buggy. I thought it would be fun to give him a push. So-I pushed the buggy down the driveway. Safety wasn't my main concern at seven or eight or nine-however old I was so I stayed put and watched him coast down the driveway. I knew he would be laughing because don't we all like to be pushed down a driveway in a buggy with no driver near the handle?

There was only one thing I neglected to think about. Cracks. The buggy hit a crack and tipped over back to front and my little bro was on the ground crying. Of course I ran to get him and then had to confess to mom about what I had done--er I assume I confessed. If I didn't then, Mom-I'm sorry for doing that. I won't do it again I promise.

Now you are probably expecting some great lesson from this story. OK. Life is full of those cracks. It may be a lost baseball game or a pet that died. In the case of my little bro the most recent crack is one many of us never want to have-the loss of a loved one. The cracks are there to help us grow.

I admire my brother for his strength, grace, and courage. He proves to me that a crack may make us stumble-maybe even for a long time, but picking oneself up and plodding along after that crack strengthens and hones us so we can be with our loved ones again. I know he has private moments of pain which I cannot imagine, but he is strong and has faith. He will make it past the crack I know it. I love you Bro.