Meu irmao.

My big brother Marcus and me. Circa Spring 2006
(Photo by www.leishakelsey.blogspot.com)

All my life growing up I longed for a super close family. I think I would have done well to have had fifteen brothers and sisters. In some ways we were close, in others we were really distant.

For 9 years of my life I was the youngest child. For those same 9 years I had one person to which I could rely upon. That was my big brother. Isn't he so studly? Oh and he blogs which is totally radical.

When I was seven and he was ten-ish our parents split. It was prolly for the best, of course looking back, we know it was. But for me, I felt like I lost something, I lost my older brother.

Both of us had a lot more responsibility placed upon us. Up until that time our mama was home, she made us dinner, she saw us off to school. Then our mom had to start working, and it was up to Big Brother (further on in this post to be referred to as BB) to help get me to school safely, and after school he would help my mom start dinner. I have vague memories of this time in my life...but so many of them are full of memories with my BB. (Thanks for always keeping me safe yo...and for teaching me the street smarts when we lived in downtown SLC.)

Upon walking to school each day, we passed this little ghetto grocery store. Sometimes we would have quarters and such and would get some sort of treat or small token item out of the machines on our way to or from school.

When we moved out of our "home" and away from the only place we ever knew...things
like this
started happening.

And eventually as we each reached our teen years, we weren't as loving to one another as we had been when we were little. There were many a day when holes were kicked in walls or doors when our parents were gone to work. Tee hee. Sad, sad times.

I am thankful to have the relationship I have now with my BB. I love his beautiful wife, and their son is my little pride and joy. I never knew how wonderful it felt to be an aunt until he was born.

We have seen each other through so much.

Broken bones, two divorces, illness, death, and so much more.

I hope that my kids can continue to grow up and continue the close relationship that they have with each other.

I get a little misty when I think I won't have that huge family that I always dreamed of...

(It was 8 not 15...but dang, Heavenly Father most def knows that I am not capaple of mothering 8 kids)

...but I am thankful that thus far in our little lives I have been able to be home for them when they go to school and come home, and that I am helping to nurture their friendship and loving bond.

Mostly, I just hope that they don't put holes in my walls like we did to our mom. Sorry mom. :)

The Pink Schwinn

I remember vividly my seventh birthday.

It was the year I got my first two-wheeler bicycle.

It had training wheels. (I know such a late bicycling bloomer I was.)

I knew it was not "new". I tried not to let that show...even though tears stung at my eyes knowing it wasn't the shiny new bike of my dreams.

Still, I was excited. My brother Marcus made sure I was excited about it. He talked up the banana seat, and was extremely encouraging that soon I would be riding without the training wheels. Just like him. (I wanted to be just like him.) Having a winter birthday sucks...but we made the best of the day and rode the bike up and down the hallway of our house, through the living room and back down the hall. (Thanks mom for letting us do that.)

The day after my birthday, or shortly there after was the day my dad left us, and being fully aware that my parents were getting "a divorce". It was for the better, but that is another story, for another time.
(He may have been gone before this, but I recall this birthday being a defining moment.)

This made my mom a single mother. Hence the understanding now of the second hand bicycle and the utter love and teary heart I have when I think back to this time in our lives. How she ever supported herself and us on her job of $8 something an hour is beyond me. This left my brother and I home alone quite a bit. Back in the 80's though, I guess it wasn't such a big deal to leave your kids home alone as it is now. Needless to say this left my brother and I a lot of idle time...alone, unsupervised.

One day, my brother's fascination with my bike must have gotten the better of him. See on that cool banana seat up there, there is this "handle" of sorts. I am not sure what possessed him, or me for that matter, but somehow I ended up tied to the bike by a rope while he got onto the bike (sans training wheels by this point) and told me to "Run! Run fast!" Mmmk.

So I ran. I probably got a good fifty yard dash in before I face planted it into the middle of the street and had road rash from my chin down my chest and tummy to my lower...very lower abdomen. I can't quite remember if my mom was home, Marcus jumped off the bike and untied me. I remember spending the entire evening with warm cloths pressed onto the damaged areas of my tummy, trying to get all of the tiny rocks and such out of my skin. Oh how it hurt to wear pants for days. :(

Then we moved. We moved across the street from my grandma. She lives in a very old part of Salt Lake City. Not too far from her house is a 7/11. My brother and I would go there seemingly daily (although financially that would be impossible) to get some Lik m Aid Fun Dip and some Neopolitan ice cream sandwiches. What could be a more perfect ride than the Schwinn?

So there I am, sitting on the back of the seat while Marcus mans the pedals and handlebars. I am holding onto the little metal handle, trying with all of my might to keep my feet out of the spokes. (Remember mom always warned you about that?) When to my chagrin my right heel got caught in the spoke, ripped off my shoe and ripped off my heel with it. I was screaming and howling...and Marcus was still going, intent on the Summer treats waiting at the sev. Finally he stopped and I limped back to grandma's house. Grandpa put me back together and all was fine.
This time? Weeks to heal.

This is why every good bikes needs a set of pegs.

I miss my Schwinn.