You seemed
to make yourself
as scarce as you could
from your pesky little sister.
But you also
tended to show up
in the unlikeliest of times
when I really needed someone,
when you could
get through to me
when no one else could.
You drove me to the mall
to just spend time with me,
goof around in the toy store,
and – seriously, I still remember
that amazing smell –
you bought me
my first Cinnabon.
You took me up the hill
over the city
to watch fireworks
on the Fourth of July
from the back of your truck,
and I had never seen
anything like them.
You brought me
to what might be the best
underground music store on earth,
and took me
to an advanced screening
of a movie in the theater,
when I never even knew
those existed,
and we connected over
really great music together
on the ride back home.
When I was torn from
everyone I cared about
and
everything I knew,
you took me out to the river
in the fields
with a camera,
showed me how to use it
and introduced me to
a different perspective.
Even when you tried to tease me
or scare me to death –
because apparently
that’s what older brothers do –
you were the one who started teaching me
a simple logic behind
not being quite so fearful
about
every
little
or huge thing.
I know
I was incessantly annoying to you
and hard to be around.
I get that now.
But I always wanted
to be around you
because
I wanted to know you
and
I wanted to be you.
You never knew
how big you were
to me
or
how much I looked up
to you,
my big brother, who
somewhere along the line,
also became my friend.
For Joe
