To My Brother DAVID...

Dear David,

This is what I wanted to say at your baby shower, but couldn't manage around all of the people (and beer.) This is for you (and Justina and Miss Emma), but mostly you.

Here goes.

If someone asked me a year ago, I would have told them "no, I've never been close to my oldest brother--just JJ, Danny and Travis." You had a mixed-up life going into your adult years, and it was so difficult for me to understand why you couldn't always be there. It never occurred to me that your life might have been in shards that you needed to pick up and glue back together. Over the years as I grew into the woman I was to become, a disgusting feeling of hate and distaste welled within me. I refused to tell anyone that I even had a third brother. Gently, my wonderful mother urged me into forgiveness. But, just like you, I had a will of iron and refused to see it any other way. The day of my sweet sixteen, you didn't show up. You had to work, but that was something that, at the time, I could simply not understand. At eighteen, I refused to look your way at my birthday party.

At my graduation party, you once more showed up, almost sheepish and quiet, as if unsure how to act around me. Trailing behind you was the ever-brilliant woman who is now the mother of your children, who will someday (hopefully soon) become your wife. I felt my walls began to break down; still, I remained adamant upon my anger and feelings of betrayal.

Some time ago, you came to me and told me that you would be a father. With a hateful smirk I began to think horrid things that, to this day, I am still very, very ashamed of. But then there was Emma. I saw that sweet little smile and the bigger one you toted when she gazed up at you in admiration. And then you came to work for Mom, and we spoke more and more often. I came to the realization that without having known you much during my growing up, I had become eerily like you.

And then was yesterday. I watched an old home movie of us down at the Port of Oquwaka. How you chased after me, tucked my shirt in, buttoned my loose overall and even tied my shoes. How you laughed when I did goofy things common to a child of my age group. And I realized my own grin of admiration at that age much mirrored Emma's--and that smile you returned mirrored the one you flash at that little girl today.

David, There is absolutely zero doubt in my mind that you will be an amazing father. It took us such a long time to be brother and sister, but on this day (just any old normal Monday) I am happy we took the path we did. I have a unique relationship with you that I do not share with anyone else in this family. It is a bond of love and respect, as I realize how hard this bond was to build, and how much harder it will be to break. You have been one of my worst enemies, and now you are one of my best friends. The admiration I feel for you in my heart has become so much more than it did that day down by the river when I was two.

I love you, and I hope for you, Justina, and Emma the very best. I will always be there to celebrate at your side.

Much love, Your sister.