My parents had two families, the one in which I grew up and
the other years before I was born. You
see my oldest brother is 13 years my senior.
He was an only child for 12 years and his life with our parents was
considerably different than the one experienced by his younger siblings. Our parents were only in their early
twenties when he was born, newly married and just forging into adulthood.
My brother was four years old the day Pearl Harbor was
attacked. WWII soon interrupted their
lives and our mother followed our father to the west coast. Dad was stationed with the Navy in San Diego
while Mom and my brother were in Washington State where she was able to get a
factory job. My mother’s parents went
with them and they all worked in the same factory on different shifts in order
to have someone home with my brother.
Butch and an unidentified little girl. Butch was wearing one of his many soldier uniforms! |
The war left a huge impression on my brother. So much that he spent 30 years in the army reserve and retired as a full colonel. In addition he was a law enforcement officer so he spent his entire life in uniforms
After the war ended my parents tried to have another
child. By this time Butch was about
nine years old. After a few years they
finally had David but sadly he only lived a few days. Once again my mother and brother shared yet another tragic
event. Together they grieved the loss
of a little brother and a baby son. Our
mother suffered a deep depression after David’s death and Butch was there
helping our dad care for our mother.
About two years later Mike was born and Butch was finally a
big brother. Thirteen months later he
became a big brother once again. It
always amazed me that my older brother welcomed his younger siblings so whole-heartedly
when he had been an only child for so long.
But he really was the best big brother any kid could have. Mike was attached to his hip from the moment
he left the hospital.
For Mike and I our big brother was like another parent. He was one more person who made us feel safe
and secure. I really don’t have any
memory of Butch until he was about sixteen years old and he was already an
adult in my thinking. He was out of the
house by the time I was nine years old.
I cried at his wedding not because I didn’t like my new sister-in-law
but because my older brother would not be living at our house anymore.
No matter how old we get Mike and I will always be Butch’s
little brother and sister and for us Butch will always be our protector and big
brother.
4 comments:
You're lucky. I always wanted an older brother and some sisters, but I have none.
My husband has a brother and a sister 13 and 15 years yonger than he is. Growing up, they thought he was a neighbor who visited but they have gotten close as adults.
What a beautiful story.
When I was born my brother was 11-years-old and my sisters were 14 and 15.
One day they were teasing me about being a "surprise". My mother told them that I was the only one that was planned.
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