Brotherly Love

Don't judge a brother by the cover.

This is a hilarious shot of my brother that I found on good ol' Facebook and appropriated for my own use, to commemorate his 40th birthday. So it's not the nostalgic image that I wanted to portray, but it'll do. You see, my brother has a very silly, ridiculous side that counteracts his highly intellectual brain and serious job as a network engineer in D.C. And that dichotomy is why he's such a mystery to me.

Bruce and I are Irish twins, exactly a year and 8 days apart (which means that I'm technically 2 years younger this week because my birthday's not for another few days!!). We live an entire country apart; he's utterly right coastal and I'm entirely left coastal. He's a red state sort of a guy and I'm all blue all the time. He and his wife are ex-military, card-carrying NRA members, upstanding citizens in every sense; I tend to waffle on good citizenship, preferring to be a good human in the world over the idea of "right" or "wrong" in the eyes of the law, but I will admit to a visceral thrill when I shot my brother's sniper rifle on the range in Texas.

What I'm getting at is, though we were super close as kids, even dreaming the same dreams some nights, we are not as twin-like since we became adults. But every time I see my brother, I remember why I adored him so much as a kid. He's the nicest person you'll ever meet, so funny, a fantastic and loyal friend. He adores his wife and kids. And that's the best thing I could ever want, isn't it? A good guy with the same genes as me.

Over the weekend, our good friends were in Vegas and we had their 10-year-old daughter and 12-year-old son stay with us. Watching their closeness and the easy way that they took care of each other reminded me of when Bruce and I were young, a fitting way to celebrate his 40th birthday.

Happy birthday, big brother. Here's to never really growing up!