Daniel

Mom blogged this morning about Daniel moving out. I have been trying to ignore it and not get emotional, since Daniel HATES tears, but Mom made me cry with her blog. You see, he's been Mom's baby since he was six...he's been mine since he was born. I remember the day he came home from the hospital. I was so young, but I already felt a sense of responsibility for him. As he got bigger I remember having what I now can identify as panic attacks, just being so stressed out over how I would get Joe and Daniel something to eat...I was only six or seven myself. I would go over to our neighbor's apartment and they would give me something to take back for them to eat. I hugged Daniel when he was hurt or crying. And when our birth mom would do somethin g crazy like slit her wrists in our presence, I would shield Daniel from seeing it. Yes, it's a bit graphic, but so was our life. Living it, and trying tpo protect Daniel and Joe from it was my life. Now that he's grown I still want to protect him. I am so proud of him and know he will succeed in anything he wants, but man, my baby brother has grown up. In some weird way, it's like an end to a chapter in our lives. We are no longer the kids who were hurt, we are the adults who chose not to let that define us.