I Remember

I remember when he was born and how I was the big sister. I remember when he was joyful and laughed.   I remember how I HATED when he cried.   I remember when we grew up and were always together.

I remember when I accidently kicked him in the head because he was playing and got in my way.  I remember when he pretended he was Superman and jumped off the top of a flight of stairs.  He had a bloody nose.  I remember when he locked me out of the house because he thought it was funny – even though it was only 14 degrees outside.  I remember he refused to crawl on the grass because it tickled his legs and I remember when this big ugly kid picked on him and I beat the other kid up.  For weeks I was known as the “aggressive girl” but I didn’t care – no one picks on my little brother.  I remember when daddy told us bedtime stories and he would fall asleep in my bed and have to be carried to his own room.  I remember one time he had an ear infection and was laying in his room screaming in pain, and I went and hid in the backyard because I couldn’t bear to listen to his pain.  I remember when we went to the same high school and he found his own niche, his own friends, and became such a gifted musician – so much better than me.  He always played better than I did.  He came to visit me while I was in college and I took him to dinner.  Only I didn’t have a car.  We had to walk, and it rained.  We got soaking wet.  And we laughed and laughed all the way home, while we were running in the rain. I remember getting the call saying that he had been accepted to Wash U – that he was coming to my school.  I was so proud.  I remember his first few weeks there, how happy he was to be out of the house and on his own.   He rowed on the crew team and started performing in the annual Chinese New Year Festival.  He’s awesome with a Chinese Yo-yo.  You should see him.

But I also remember the day that we found out he had scoliosis and had to have surgery right away.  I remember the agony of the back brace he had to wear.  I remember when he actually had the surgery and during his recovery I sat in his hospital room and played “21″ with him for hours on end.  One day we played for 6 hours.  Straight.  I never got up, and I never left.  He barely remembers it because of the pain drugs he was on, but I do because I was there.

And I also remember the day his first love broke his heart.  He had poured out everything he had to this girl, had treated her like the queen of his life that she was, had been faithful and loyal, loving and thoughtful to her, and she broke his heart because she was only 16 and he was only 17 and these things happen.  She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to, and I understood why, but he didn’t.  I remember his pain, his tears, and his discontent.  Everything changed then.  He might not remember that, but I do.  Because I was there.

And now, I’m not there anymore.  I’m here.  I have my amazing husband and incredible daughter and it’s not fair.  Because I’m happy.  I’m contented.  I have everything I could have ever wanted, everything I don’t deserve, everything that I didn’t know I wanted, and a Lord that fills the emptiest places in my heart, who fills my entire being with joy.  But he doesn’t have any of these things.  I only know what my mom tells me which is that he works part-time at his job, and spends the rest of his time playing video games.  She says he never goes out, and that he doesn’t have any friends anymore.  She says that she’s worried.  And I am, too.  Because he says he doesn’t have a reason to get up in the morning, that there’s no point to life.  How I wish he would let the God of everything carry his burden.  And I wish that he would find his way in this world, to see the beauty and compassion of people, to feel the glory of God’s creation every day.  I wish that he would understand that the taste of every bite of food is perfectly created by the Father, that the breath in his lungs is created by our Lord, that even if he doesn’t see it, God has a plan for him.  I want to remember in 20 years that he was joyful, that he found his way in this world, and found his way to Jesus.  Because I remember when he was my brother, and we were always together.