Growing up I was the baby in the family. Second born, and four years younger than my older brother. We bickered as most siblings do, but I always looked up to him and took interest in everything he was interested in. He played hockey, soon I did too. He liked N64, we’d battle it out on Mario Party. He read Goosebumps books, and even though they scared me, I took interest in them as well. He watched football, soon I was a bears fan too. When his friends were over, of course I would love to join.
Having a big brother means always feeling safe. Somebody’s always got your back, and he even acted as an intimidator for anyone who thought about messing with me. The 6’4 teddy bear still looks out for me today.
We went to the same public school as children, and we had recess at the same time. I was no older than 7, it was winter and I was running around when I got pegged in the face with a snowball. The bell rang and my face was red, cold, and I was in tears. I found my big brother on the playground, and just like my Dad would, he took his gloves off, and pressed his hands onto my face to warm it up, told me I’d be okay and gave me a hug. I nodded and ran inside.
Family always has your back. In the brightest and darkest of days we begin and end with family. I’m grateful to have been watched over by my big brother in my life, and thankful that’s still the case even as adults. We’ve been through it all together, and I’m honoured and proud to be a part of his life.