As we’ve been working on our new home for the past two months (we’re so close to the move in date!), I’ve frequently been asked “What are you most looking forward to when you’re all settled in?” My answer is always the same: cooking yummy meals for my friends and family of course! I can’t wait to be host to our friends for a taco and margarita game night. I can’t wait to serve wine and crostini to a small crowd gathered on our back deck overlooking the ravine as the sun sets behind it. Most of all, I can’t wait to invite my brothers and their girlfriends – or my potential sisters as I see it – around our dinner table for a warm home-cooked meal.
With these thoughts buzzing in my head as of late, I thought it appropriate to dust off a post from an old blog:
I love these men. It’s weird to use the word “men” for boys who used to poke and kick and pinch me. It’s weird to use the word “men” for boys who used to watch Power Rangers and Batman movies with me, for boys who used to engage me in their Hot Wheels and G.I. Joe play, for boys who used to crash on the couch with me after school, bowl of Cheetos in hand.
I love these men. I miss flinging mushy leaves out of the old creek with them. I miss riding bikes along the old railroad tracks with them. I miss squishing onto a bunk bed along with 300 stuffed animals and them. I miss singing “You can build a cellar in a day, a cellar in a day. Even if it can’t be done, do it any way” as we spent an afternoon together watching the same old VCR tapes over and over again.
I love these men. I look forward to having
a beer in the bar many more beers in bars with them. I look forward to fulfilling the pact of spending a night on the beach-hoping we don’t get caught- now that everyone has turned 18. I look forward to collecting $2,000 dollars from a bet made when we were kids that Anthony would have a Corvette at age 16 and muscles like the guy on the Bowflex commercial. I look forward to meeting their wives, to being their kids favorite aunt, to fighting over who gets to take Dad in when he gets old.
I love these men. That may be what I have to call them, but they’ll always be little brothers to me.