TheBanyanTree: To my brother

[Laura Hicks]

I think he was lucky to have you there for him.

Laura
wolfljsh at gmail.com

On Sun, Apr 7, 2019 at 6:37 PM Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com>
wrote:

> I think my brother was lucky to survive his childhood.
>
> Monique
> Sent from my iPad
>
> > On Apr 7, 2019, at 3:29 PM, Laura Hicks <wolfljsh at gmail.com> wrote:
> >
> > Absolutely beautiful, Monique.
> >
> > Laura
> > wolfljsh at gmail.com
> >
> > On Sun, Apr 7, 2019 at 5:50 PM Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com>
> > wrote:
> >
> >> Writing things down in case I forget them and.
> >>
> >> The day you were born I wasn't there, I was probably at home, where I
> >> spent much of my time. Mom hated me hanging around the house so much, I
> was
> >> a constant thorn in her side. So she was there when you were born. I do
> >> remember smuggling alcohol in to her. Dad said, "Put this under your
> >> shirt," So I walked into the maternity ward looking like a 13 year old
> >> slightly pregnant girl, the shaker under my shirt clinking with ice,
> >> because gin and tonics needed to be served cold.
> >>
> >> You were not breast fed.
> >>
> >> Dad and I went into Mom's room and she was sitting up, looking her
> normal
> >> self, as if she hadn't recently pushed you out. The gin and tonic
> helped I
> >> think.
> >>
> >> Next thing I knew, you were at home. There was one bedroom at the end of
> >> the hallway that I'd previously shared with our sisters, but they were
> >> moved out and on with their own adult lives. The room was long, and when
> >> you moved in you got the half on the door side. A divider was put up in
> the
> >> middle of the room and I was on the other side. We each had a window,
> but
> >> my side was dark, just the right place for someone like me. Yours was
> >> bright and smelled of baby powder.
> >>
> >> One time I had you on the changing table, changing you. Your Mom was
> out,
> >> so I was in charge of you. The boys and Dad were all watching TV in the
> >> family room. I turned to get something, a silly move on my part, and you
> >> rolled over and fell on the floor. I was so upset! I'd rather bash my
> own
> >> head in. Dad came to check, but when I picked you up and put you back on
> >> the table you acted as if nothing had happened.
> >>
> >> It was my job to keep you safe, and change diapers, and feed you, and
> >> entertain you, and I was very concerned about doing it all properly
> because
> >> I loved  this tiny creature so much. Sure, you had a Mom, but I was the
> >> stand in.
> >>
> >> When we moved to Hacienda Heights I had my own room, and you had to room
> >> with someone else. I'd never minded rooming with you. We'd spend so much
> >> time together anyway. I'd take you to pre-school, pick you up from
> >> pre-school, take you to the store with me, entertain you while Mom
> waan't
> >> there. You were always asking me why. Why this, why that, why. So many
> >> whys, and I didn't always have answers. But you forgave me.
> >>
> >> I was there when you fell and hit the side of your head on the glass
> >> coffee table, right next to your eye. Chaos ensued. Fortunately Mom was
> >> there too, and we took you to the ER. She drove like a bat out of hell
> and
> >> I held you, compressing a towel against the cut. I don't remember you
> >> crying, but you might have been. About forty years later I fell on my
> face
> >> and had a cut right next to my eye. I still have my scar, how about you?
> >>
> >> I was there when Dad brought you home one day and said you'd fallen out
> of
> >> his truck when he was turning a corner. You were banged up, but just a
> >> little, so we put bandaids on you because you demanded them. You lay on
> the
> >> couch and demanded canned mushrooms to help you recover from the
> trauma. At
> >> 4 maybe? Whatever you wanted, you got.
> >>
> >> That was usually the way. You were the youngest, and you were, as far
> as I
> >> can remember, the best child ever.
> >>
> >> I watched you learn to swim, I let your instructor in and after your
> >> lessons I'd give him a beer while he hit on me.
> >>
> >> One time I tried carrying too much down the stairs at once, and of those
> >> things was you. I tripped and fell the rest of the way, and all I could
> >> think to do was hold tight to you and keep any part of you hitting the
> >> floor at the bottom of the stairs. I landed on my knees, and your Mom
> was
> >> right there, ready to kill me if you had as much as a scratch. But your
> >> head was still against my chest , you were fine, and may have enjoyed
> the
> >> ride.
> >>
> >> My knees never recovered, not really, especially the right one. It's
> never
> >> been the same, but it was a small price to pay to keep you safe.
> >>
> >> We were careless with you in a way that isn't done anymore. You would
> ride
> >> in the car standing on the passenger seat from the time you could stand.
> >> One day we in the car with Mom, the boys in the back seat, you and me in
> >> the front with Mom driving, you standing between us as usual. Maybe you
> >> were 4? We pulled into the driveway and Mom, one foot in a cast,
> >> accidentally accelerated instead of braked, and the car went right
> through
> >> the garage door support between the garage doors. It all happened so
> fast,
> >> and my left arm went out to keep you from hurtling through the
> windshield.
> >> I'm sure Mom's right arm went out too, it's instinctual in moms to
> protect
> >> their babies.
> >>
> >> When I moved out at 18 you were five, and you were the one I missed and
> >> cried about for so long after. No one else really cared that I left ,
> but
> >> the way you'd greet me when I came back to visit and want to be with me,
> >> even wanting to sleep with me, told me that you missed me too.
> >>
> >> I have always been proud of you, and even if you don't remember all the
> >> fun and terrifying times we had together I always will, until I remember
> >> nothing at all.
> >>
> >>
> >> Monique
> >> Sent from my iPad
> >
> > --
> > Laura
> > wolfljsh at gmail.com
>
-- 
Laura
wolfljsh at gmail.com