For My Brothers

            From the time that I was born and to the day I die, I know that no matter what happens I will always have someone to love. There are times that I don’t like my brothers, or even my parents for that matter, but I have learned that those feelings are love. There is love between siblings, and while you will never find someone who despises my brothers more than me, you will never find someone who loves them more.

            My grandfather always says family comes first and nothing else matters. Of course, it actually sounds like, “Family come first n’ nuttin’ else matters, ya hear?” My family is an odd bundle of insanity. My brothers can crawl under my skin because we share DNA and personality traits we inherited from polar opposites. I cannot tell you what life holds in a house where parents are similar, but I can elaborate on a life when the parents aren’t. Sarcasm is a reflex developed as a weapon to lead you to victory in the battle of wits since absolutely any topic can lead to a debate and typically does.

            When I learned that I loved my brothers, it came from someone who for a very long time I believed could never love anything other than himself. My oldest brother and I didn’t start to get along until he was no longer in the house and no longer in my personal space. I could tolerate him because he was eight hundred miles away from me. The first time he came home from college for break, I learned that while I don’t like my brother he is still MY brother. A girl that I did not know well or like much pushed me aside and ran to go hug MY brother who I hadn’t seen in six months.

            I am territorial of things that belong to me. While it seems a little strange to say I get jealous because of my brothers, one needs to understand that love is more than just a person’s significant other. Love is having a special place in your heart for someone, no matter who they are, and caring about their well-being. I love and care about my brothers, they are my family. Do not mess with my family. That day, I got upset over that girl’s actions. It took me up until the end of my brother’s visit to realize why. As annoying, stubborn, conceited, and ignorant as my brother is, he is my annoying, stubborn, conceited, and ignorant brother and I do love him.

            I learned that I loved my brother when he was ready to walk out the door and he said to me, “Sometimes, my roommate’s ankles pop when he walks and part of me wants to turn and say, ‘Put some socks on, Kenna.’ But then I remember that my little sister is eight hundred miles away and I miss you.”