My younger brother is very soon to wed. As I lay in my bed last night trying to sleep, I kept having a flash forward of myself, somehow standing up front at the wedding, giving a speech, my head illuminated by some form of a spot light, my torso and arms resting on a podium... And how I knew it was a dream... Was because I would never do anything like that in real life. My method in the written word, the carefully constructed narrative, and in the ramblings that perhaps only I hold dear.
My brother was born in a time known as the famine in our family. Dad's job was not working out. And Mom had actually some years earlier, donated all of the baby furniture to the orphanage down the road. Mom had also recently started driving a Nissan Exa which if anyone can remember those, they were small, two door sports coupe's with very small back seats...
So couple changes had to be made to our family and quick.
Nonetheless there are pictures of us standing in front of the Park Lane Clinic in May 1989 with a bouncing baby boy and two little blonde girls smiling, and two parents, ecstatic with their perfect baby boy.
You see my brother was even caring and thoughtful as an embryo and a foetus. How clever of him to time his arrival exactly with the universal day of thanks for mothers and their careful mothering?
He was named Jordan after the river... and he was chunky, cute, blonde and super fast. At 9 months he took off running. He would do things we never anticipated and would have a series of hard bumps on the head and stitches, and he would even have a huge broken window under his belt by the time he was two.
My memories of him involve this yellow Tupperware dish that we used to feed him from... I remember he did not like meat much... He was mostly vegetarian. But he always had a sweet tooth and would definitely love some Swiss Roll.
He was like a little shadow following my sister and myself around. Another distinct memory is of how I used to hold him upside down when he was a toddler...
My brother wore second hand clothes, a friend of my moms had twin boys so he got double the clothing from them. And he learnt to ride a bike on my pink BMX.
The thing about him, and this was the thought that kept running through my head the whole time I was supposed to be sleeping, is that he is an exceptionally true person. He is a superb friend when you have all the toys and fun in the world, and he is great company when it was just us on the couch, in a house that didn't even have a working TV.
I recall one time, I must have been 18 because I was learning to drive, and I got a random infection in the vertebrae in my neck. And basically was in agony. I lay in his bed (because it was the firmest bed in the house) and Jordie kept me company and took care of me. He must have been 9 at the time. I remember he would say my name fast so that it sounded like "Bennie" instead of "Bernie". I also remember sitting in the bathroom with him and our new pet rat name Rollo.
So these pictures, a thousand times brighter than any star, shone through my minds eye, blocking any partial darkness or opportunity for sleep.
So I treasure my brother. Our Baby Brother. The best friend you could ask for. Smart and ingenious. Hard working and reliable. Steadfast and true. Our new sister in law has no idea what a find she has found. I know that he will be everything that she has ever dreamt of. And more.
