Birthday Boy

Today is my little brother's birthday. He is 20 years old. It's so hard to believe that he is that old. I can remember the day he was born, the day he came home, the day he had surgery on his throat and I had to take care of him. Although I was only five when he came into this world, I automatically knew that he was my responsibility. I loved him from the moment I laid eyes on him. Not like a typical older sister, who thinks he's cute and plays with him until she gets bored, but as a caretaker. I wanted to protect him from everything around us, and I spent the next six years doing just that. I cannot say enough about my baby brother. He makes me so proud every day. He is very intelligent, good-looking, athletic and funny. He is caring and loving and giving. He loves his family and he loves God, and I am so grateful that God thought enough of me to make me his sister. He's so cool.

The only good memories I have of my early childhood include my brothers. And the majority of my good memories as an adult include my brothers. This brother in particular means so much to me, and he knows it. I know when he reads this, he will probably shrug it off, as he's not much into the emotional stuff I tend to lean towards, but I want him to know that he means the world to me. I want to thank him for making me so proud and for making such a success out of himself. I want him to know that I admire and look up to him. He is one of my heroes. So, Happy Birthday Little Brother...I love you more than you'll ever know.