A Letter to My Not so Little Brother

I remember being 3 years old, when I was told that I was going to be a big sister. I wanted a little sister so bad. Someone to play dress up with and to play dolls with, because at 3 years old, how many friends do you really have? I was so excited. When the time came, you were born on December 13th, 2003. I didn’t get to see you at first, but I got to open your presents! But your presents were blue. Nothing pink. And the balloon that was hanging over your bed said these 3 weird words. “It’s a BOY!”, they read. The sibling that I wanted most, to play dress up and dolls with, was a boy.

I was told that I didn’t want you. Apparently, I was very upset about not to have a baby sister. At 3 years old, boys are different. They want to get dirty, and I was not about that. But I was wrong. You became my baby doll. I loved helping mom with you. I remember pushing you around in a wash basket and dancing on the couch when the wiggles were on the TV. I watched you become a terror who would bite anyone that held you, even after you acted like the most loving little toddler there ever was.

I watched as you grew. You grew to be this little blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who was very independent, on most things. You knew what you loved, and you knew what you hated. You loved football so much. You were the star running back in the town at the age of 6 to 11. Everyone screamed your name and knew the number 14. I remember the scariest day of our lives, when that big lineman slammed you down on the field, and you didn’t get back up. I remember mom and dad FLYING off the bleachers and on to the field to make sure you were okay. I was bawling, of course. Then you stood up, slowly. You got to the sideline, slammed your helmet on the ground, removed your shoulder pads, and that’s when we knew you were done with football. You were never done being an athlete, even though you will most likely never be a running back again.

The next sport that you started was basketball, and to this day, it’s still your favorite sport, and our father’s too. You started in 6th grade on a community basketball team where, again, you were an all-star. Or so we thought. Then once you got to middle school, you tried out for the basketball team, and made it, but you sat the bench for a lot of the season. That is when you kicked it into gear. You started going to trainers, and started playing on travel teams. You worked very hard during the offseason, even when you were too tired to do so. You then tried out the next year and you were the strongest player on the team! Your dedication, determination, and stubbornness to never stop fighting is why I am so proud to be your big sister.

My life would have been completely different if it weren’t for the person you became. You gave me a reason to be the best person I can be, because I know you look up to me for guidance. Even though I am not always home to watch you grow up during your years of high school, and watch you go through the heartbreak and happiness in your social life, I will always be routing for you from 2 hours away. Here’s to you, my not so little anymore, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, stubborn little brother, Jimmy.