Day 4 - Your sibling (or closest relative)

Dear Brothers,

There are three of you so to be fair, I won't play favorites. At least openly. Heh.

Thanksgiving just passed and while I was a terrible daughter, not calling our father to wish him happy birthday until four days later, I'm not half as bad of a sister if I told you I am thankful for each of you and love you.

All this to say: It's kind of comical, yet totally logical, for me to realize that I feel -- that I am -- so much closer to each of you than to our own parents, combined.

We've had our disagreements and arguments, but we've always been in the same boat -- whether it was sailing or sinking, we taught each other to swim and held on to each other when we drowned. We saved each other and continue to do so -- through tears, through laughter, throughout the years, together.

And while I've frequently found myself envying other people's relationships with their mothers or fathers, I've never once wished for, nor thought about having, any other brothers but you.

(Except, of course, having a sister. But that doesn't count.)

I'm glad that I have been the kind of sibling you can turn to in your times of sadness as much as your times of happiness.

If I don't become a mother in this lifetime, I'll still die smiling, holding on to all of our memories together as sister and brothers.

The last of it.

My birthday is a little over a week from today.

This upcoming year will be the last of my 20s.

It was tough at times. Especially in the beginning. 

But I am excited. To be alive; to be 29, soon.

Being a girl.

Becoming a woman. It's sort of overrated in some ways, isn't it? I'll always be a girl at heart -- a hint of wildness; a glint of mischief; always curious.

Take heart.

My father had a heart attack earlier this evening. 

He is no longer in critical condition, but they will need to keep him in the hospital for the next few days to monitor his condition. The doctor said he was lucky to be alive, with three arteries being 95% - 100% clogged.

He looked so small and weak tonight, when we were finally able to see him. I couldn't hold back my tears. The nurse teasingly asked him what upset him, and he simply replied, "Oh, nothing, I just got emotional."

It is strange how life is, sometimes, sudden and surprising and sobering. Just yesterday we were celebrating my mother and brother's joint birthdays at my parents' home and then today all of us are in a hospital waiting room doing just that -- waiting.

Unfinished business.

I was included in a local campaign recently, to celebrate women making a difference in their communities in honor of National Women's History Month, and I felt so out of place and small next to some of the women featured. 

And I thought, well, this is good, this is very good, because this only means that there is room for growth. And when you are still growing, you are  still pursuing, still hustling, still living.

... 

It was my mother's birthday this past weekend, and the weather was warm and glorious. I stopped by with a mango mousse cake and spring flowers and I could feel Husband's amused smile and the sun and yesteryears' memories enveloping me as Mother and I raconted and exchanged tales of my and my brother's childhood between us. 

It was so delightful to hear the sheer happiness and exuberance in her voice as she started telling us about her work.

"It is amazing to be surrounded by people who get you, who get your ideas, who get your vision, who don't think you're crazy," she gushed. 

"I love it. I really love it."

And I started thinking, she turned 54 this year. I hope I don't have to wait until I'm 54 to find my bliss but more than that, I hope I don't die unfinished. 

And I squeezed my husband's hand just a little harder.