Brothers can be mean. Especially older brothers. And I have two. Poor girl.
Ethan and I are just three years apart. He would taunt me, tease me, pull the heads off of my Barbies (which didn't go back on, by the way). But when I became sick I saw a side of him I hadn't seen before. A compassion. An unconditional love. He was there for me.
Ethan was in the sixth grade and he and I went to the same school. We walked together to and from school. Ethan was my gatekeeper. The older kids at our school could be especially hurtful, not just to me, but saying nasty things to him. I remember him sticking up for me on one particular occasion when the boy who was taunting me was calling me "polka dot girl". Now, thinking back to it - I wish I could have said, "is that the only nickname you can come up with??? Polka Dot Girl??? Is that the best you've got, really". But at the time, it didn't matter how stupid the insult was, it still hurt.
Ethan didn't blink. He just went after the guy. It was like a knee-jerk reaction. I never heard from that boy again. Ethan was my protector, from that day on. And I felt so safe walking home with him.
And although he still pulled the heads off my Barbie's, I knew he loved me. I really knew.
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2 comments:
gotta love ethan!! i miss him!! hopefully my kids will defend each other when it comes to that kind of stuff - instead of going after each other!
My kids are always picking at each other. And come to think of it I have found two Barbie heads in the recent months. But I know that they would protect each other fiercely if anyone ever tried to hurt the other.
Glad you were able to see your brother's love.
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