I swear I just blinked and you grew from this tiny hazel eyed baby in rain boots and a diaper into a driving high school graduate, with a full-time job. I am proud of every step you took to get to where you are now, lord knows it wasn’t easy. You were strong, jumping through life’s hurdles time in and time out. I know growing up was never easy, after the split up of our family and your diagnoses, but man you figured it out and you fought like a warrior. Because of those hurdles and hardships, you are one of the most driven and loving people to have graced this earth.

I still remember those days from time to time you in your rain boots and diaper, sneaking out into the garden to pick tomatoes and talk to the neighbors. Two years old and already adventurous enough to leave the house without explanation, thank god our parents kept a close eye on you; because lord knows whatever caught your eye, you walked in the direction of it. I recall a time in which it was peanut butter and chocolate chips that caught your eye, admittedly mine too. It was mom and dad’s anniversary and we decided to use an entire jar of peanut butter and chocolate chips to make a cake. Nothing is more logical than a two ingredient cake. Thank god for dad’s training in the food industry; the cake made some pretty good cookies. We were bound by biology to be best friends, aside from the times we used Tonka Trucks as weapons to hit each other in the head with. Maybe it was because of our closeness in age or just because we found a lot of the same things intriguing, but we were always hand in hand searching for something else to get into.

That was until that awful year, when you became ill. I questioned why you didn’t come home from the doctors and tried to find out more every second you were away from home. Little did we know that the one day trip to the doctors would turn into nearly a year of treatments and hardships. That year there were two things I learned; Firstly Cancer does everything in its power to destroy. Secondly, you are stronger than the Hulk because you kicked Cancer’s ass. I remember visiting you and watching as you retaught yourself how to walk. The nurses may have been happier than we were that day, knowing that they would not have to worry about three rambunctious children flipping the chair by popping wheelies in the hall. We played games in Spalding and met loads of new people. Shortly after you began walking you came home.

Together we walked to your second-grade classroom; I recall staring down children who looked at you any differently. I wanted more than anything to protect you, but you handled yourself. You moved through school with some difficulty. Your grades average and the kids were relentless. Even after I graduated I wanted time and time again to storm into your school and ask these bullies who they thought they were. You always told me that was embarrassing and you could handle it. You proved me right every time and definitely scared a few of those clowns in such a way that they never picked on you again.

Football, that was always what kept you going. I remember when the doctor told you, you could not play football because of the shunt in your head, and you replied bitingly that you would play someday whether he liked it or not. Every game I went to and watched your royal blue and silver colors dash across the field, I was proud. You were fast and strong, your size never a factor. You tackled guys twice your weight and protected the line like you protected me. The quarterback felt safe as play after play you took hits or pushed through for him, just the way you have our whole lives.

Shortly after sports ended you walked down the aisle in a powder blue cap and gown and we all cried tears of joy as you collected your diploma, on time. Since that day you have never given up. You work more doubles than I could possibly function for and still find time to go to the gym and be there for our younger siblings. More recently we’ve had long discussions about work and how you are progressing in the adult world. Let me tell you, you are killing it.

Last night you gave me a card for my birthday telling me I was an inspiration, someone you look up to, and I almost cried with the flux of emotion because even though you are younger you have always been my inspiration, my strength, my protector my hero. I will always look to you for gudiance, my not so little brother.