DNA

The very first memory I have of my life revolves around him. In shorts, my thighs stuck to our cherry red counter top. Eating a popsicle that trickled down my chin as I swung my legs back and forth. Standing 5 feet away my dad wore a charcoal gray shirt. To this day I can close my eyes and remember that question like it was yesterday. Straight from his mouth, I was asked, "what do you think, boy or girl?" I don't remember finding out I would have a sibling, but that question is forever stuck to the center of the cork board in my brain. With my childhood mind filled with princesses and barbies, the choice was easy. When the humans I knew as mom and dad pointed out that eventually she would steal everything that belonged to me, I changed my mind and fate itself.  I didn't know what I was getting into with my final decision. Toys taken were such a small token compared to growing up with the tornado of a brother.

I remember dad making me a ghost out of a kitchen towel when mom was gone, as we awaited his arrival. I remember the pink teddy from gram and the overlooked Lion King puzzle. I remember him coming home. My parents should have been given a bubble and punch card for injuries when they left the hospital.

We should have known what was coming the day he stated climbing the sides of his crib prior to turning one. We should have guessed his ruthless behavior when he found sheer joy in 'breaking' necklaces with grandpa in the basement as a baby, laughing uncontrollably, giving those YouTube 'laughing babies' a run for their money. The signs were there.

He was always far more concerned with destruction and adrenaline as a child. Those training wheels were off by age three and back flips were being accomplished by early elementary. Jumping off the top of the swing set instilled a sense of fear in the eyes of my mother. I think that was the day she knew he was an untamed spirit. Completely free.


I took on my role as a sister seriously. I helped feed him as a baby I helped teach him how to pick strawberries, only to have him squish one in the back of my shorts as I turned around. He dumped sand in my hair whenever he got the chance. Playdough was mushed into the face of every barbie I owned when I tried to show him how awesome they were. He climbed in my dollhouse. He ruined my board games. He crumpled my blanket forts. He 'colored' my favorite pages in my color books. He flung water at me when I tried to take 'awesome' adolescent pictures at our camper. And when all else failed, he pooped in the tub.  He knew where my buttons were and could push them from ten feet away.

I remember the growth of the biting child, and unfortunately still have the scar on my knee from that phase of life.

I remember towers of cardboard blocks that were taller than him alone, only to be knocked down, destroying my playschool family simultaneously.

I remember the endless sound effects.

I remember yelling at strangers through the vent in the attic and how he turned that a little more serious by shooting airsoft-guns at cars driving past.

I remember the neighbor's broken windows.

I remember the friends locked on our roof.

I remember searching for him in stores.

I remember his love for Star Wars...which was solidified by watching Episode One on repeat for hours after church and talking with Ben til he fell asleep.

I remember him standing in his underwear next to a naked tree laughing and asking for a picture.

I remember him jousting in his knight helmet in the basement.

I remember him in his bed tent.

I remember his outrageous getups.

I remember him scaling mud hills and tracking the evidence around with him for the rest of the day.

I remember the constant mess of a boy running around like a cray person. He was always sticky, and always loud. Always in his underwear. Always.

I remember hours of home videos.

I remember all his sports. Every weekend, every summer, every day. Baseball, basketball, soccer, football, hockey. You name it, he did it.

I remember years of weekends in freezing, dusty rinks.

I remember days ruined due to his injuries. Knees, ligaments, bones. We could connect the dots with his scars. Our deductible was met yearly.

He was the only kid who yearly forgot his birthday, had no idea that Christmas was coming up regardless of the decorations regurgitated upon everything, and couldn't care less about any Holiday in between

I made him walk to school when he couldn't get himself together in the morning fast enough. I remember the fights and the screaming...and then he got stronger than me.

He started to mature and interests grew deeper. His love for adrenaline and humans increased. His friends increased in multiples. He proved he could sing. He enjoyed pucks being shot at his face. His creativity shone in everything he did. He gained an interest in jumping from wake to wake in summer and over gaps of snow in the winter. He mastered tricks on things with wheels on land and behind a boat in the water.

He was always the more funny one, the one who was more athletic, he was creative, he knew how to make people laugh, and he could entertain everyone around him. He wound everyone around his finger effortlessly. He was good at whatever he tried and everything he touched turn to gold. He knew what was cool and how to draw people in, he became popular. When he had the chance to let his status and abilities get to his head, he did something nearly impossible. He shared the joy with others. He made people feel important. He made good choices around those who didn't. He became a great person, I tried to make myself believe we were even, but reality is that he outshines me in nearly every aspect of life. I had to keep reminding myself that we share the same DNA...part of that was in me too.

And then one day I got over it. Jealousy turned to pride.


He has an unbreakable spirit. He radiates inspiration so strongly that people around him can feel it pulsing through their bodies. He is one of the few left with fun and an natural high running through their veins. His laughter could be bottled and sold. His perseverance in everything he sets out to do is unwavering, never stopping to flinch for someone who doesn't believe in him. He is a human blow horn for the excitement of life. He is wild, he is crazy, he is unique, and he is strong. He cares unconditionally and loves deeply. He has endless amounts of insight and wisdom. And daily, he goes about his day like he is the most plain person, as people stand in awe.

He has the sense to strive for greatness and understands the lack of competition from the top...as most people are simply striving to be mediocre. He however has always maintained the most humble qualities. Instead of thriving and basking in his own accomplishments, he stands from the top, pulling others up next to him despite their lack.

I am beyond proud of the person he has become. Somehow he still decides to claim me as his sister regardless of how embarrassing and under-qualified I may be as a sibling. He shines brighter than anyone I know and inspires my life daily. He will go further than anyone can imagine.

Some days he still makes me feel small. When I feel mediocre standing next to him, I always know he will reach a hand down and pull me up, sharing his accomplishments and letting me enjoy the view.

Stephen, I could never thank God enough for giving me a brother like you. You will go further in life than anyone can ever imagine, and won't stop for those who don't think you can. You inspire me to be a better person and add endless amounts of happiness to my life. Thanks for all you've done and the joy you'll continue to provide. Continue to take those obstacles in your way as the smallest hurdles you've ever seen, only learning from them to run the race of life a little faster. Forever growing. Happy Graduation. I love you.