Sunday, November 15, 2009
Tomorrow my baby brother turns 50! Seeing the words in print seems almost bizarre to me. How could my kid brother be FIFTY??? But he is and that means I will be (horrors!) 52 in December. Now we are both officially half way there if we both live to 100. (what are the chances?) When you think of it that way, it doesn't seem so bad, trouble is, our aging bodies won't have quite the same spunk they did for the first fifty. I certainly don't feel my age. In fact, I feel quite good these days. I have lost a little weight, I am healthy, I just started a new job. All in all, I feel fairly energetic and fit. My brother has always been a sporty, outdoorsy guy, can still clean my clock on the golf course and although we haven't stood on opposite sides of a tennis net in recent years, my guess is he would still give me a run for my money there too. When we get together (not nearly often enough) we always have a few laughs, a few drinks and never run out of things to talk about. I love my brother. He is way more laid back than I am, rolls with the punches better than I do and is an all around good guy. He got married young, had his two kids young and now he has an empty nest, his dream cottage and many years of golf and fishing (two of his fave activities) ahead of him. He is married to a great gal and they have always seemed meant for each other. I'll go out on the limb and say I think my brother is a happy man. Growing up, we had our share of sibling spats, nasty verbal and physical altercations until one day we decided to form a pact. We decided to form a bond, a team if you will. Us against them. I would not rat him out if he did not rat me out. To our parents. It was the best decision we ever made. After that we got along famously. We would tell my folks we were going to church on Sunday morning - this was when I was 16 and old enough to drive. We would park out front, one of us would slip inside and grab a bulletin (proof we had gone) and then we would go anywhere BUT church. Kill an hour, then head home. I haven't been to church since, other than the odd wedding or funeral, and I have never looked back. Once in a while, he would catch the eye of one of my girlfriends, or one his friends would be interested in me and we would help things along. We were less than two years apart, so the age difference was minimal. Eventually we went our separate ways, he went to work on the oil rigs in Alberta, I moved to Banff and when he would finally get some time off, he would head down for a few crazy days with me and my friends in Canada's party capital and we had some pretty wild times. Once he met his wife, he settled down a bit (OK - a lot) and before long he was a married man and starting a family. We haven't lived in the same city since and that is regrettable. I miss him. I wish we lived closer and I am not really great at keeping in touch often enough. (social media is not his thing.....c'mon Rick, get with the program buddy!) and since I communicate almost exclusively that way, it means I actually have to pick up the phone and call him. I keep vowing I will do it more often, but I haven't been so great at following up on that promise. Just so you know bro, I do think about you often and even tho we don't talk as much as we should, you are always there. You always will be. Happy Birthday Rick. Fifty looks good on you. Not as good as it does on me, but pretty good nonetheless! Gotcha!