It was always a little weird growing up with my brother. He was born ten
years before me, so by the time I was nine he was already off to college and
having fun with his adult life. He seemed more like an uncle or maybe a cousin
than a brother. Thatís the way I always felt growing up.
Looking back he was more of a brother than I ever realized. While he was busy
with college and finals week, he always took the time to make it back home for
my birthday parties. When I started to date, he always threatened to beat up my
boyfriends if they mistreated me. He was the protective older brother that every
little girl should have. More than that, he taught me a lot of things.
My brother taught me how to fight. He loved karate, and when I refused to
take classes he went out of his way to show me the ropes. He also taught me how
to fish and hunt, even though I didnít care for either one, I loved the time
that we spent together. My bubby always made sure to spend time with all of us
until the very end.
When we found out my brother had HIV, we were all devastated, but we thought
that with all of the new technology and medicine that he would still live a
long, fulfilling life. Unfortunately, the virus had already progressed. AIDís
wasnít far off, and within months he was gone. In those few months, before he
got sick, my brother spent time with all of us. He knew what was coming, and he
made sure that he did everything he wanted to before that time came. He went
skydiving, something he had wanted to do for years. He took my mom to dinner,
and my father hunting. He was a good man, and an amazing brother. Itís
comforting to know that he didnít suffer much, and that he is in a far better