My brother is moving.
It's not just my brother. He is moving with his wife and 3 cute kids, and I will miss them all, but I am going to miss my brother.
Which is weird, 'cause... he's my younger brother.
I don't even know what to say! The tears have flowed so freely about this--ugh.
I AM really excited for him. He is moving to Idaho, and he loves it there. Every time they go back to visit there, he comes back saying, "We should all move to Idaho!" He gets that look in his eye and the sound in his voice that he has always gotten when he has a good idea that he is trying to get everyone on board with, and it is going to be FUN, and it will be even better if we all do it together.
And I love fresh starts and change and going new places--so I am so excited for him.
But I am going to miss him being here.
I have always wanted an older brother. Always. He would teach me how to do things, be protective of me, call me pretty, let me tag along (but only sometimes) and I would have a crush on his friends and marry one of his best friends. But I didn't have an older brother, I had seven YOUNGER siblings. And the closest one was Andy. I won't go into detail of how I felt about Andy while we were growing up. We were always at odds--and yet, when I look back, maybe we weren't 'cause we did some fun things together too. But I really didn't think he would amount to much. And, I was always...older. Older, older, older. I always knew better and was smarter and he was always younger.
But that changed when we were on our missions.
I remember being in my apartment in Bucharesti and being quite frustrated. I don't remember exactly what it was. Since I was in Bucharesti it was most likely winter and cold and dark and we had a couple baptisms that stopped coming to church and there were problems with our small branch and... I was in a place that needed understanding and support. We got letters when we went to district meetings from the office so we came home for lunch that day and I sat down on my bed to read. There was a letter from Andy. From Ireland. Where he was a missionary. I don't even remember what the letter said, but I remember that I was impressed so strongly that he was counseling and comforting me with wisdom of a missionary. He left on his mission before I did. He was the one 'going before' this time. He had experience and wisdom. He didn't even know of my frustrations when he wrote the letter, he just wrote a letter--probably following the spirit--and I had my wish.. of an older brother.
I know I was born first, and there are more candles on my cake than on his each year, but he is my peer and so often just like an older brother. No, I did not have crushes on his friends, but he is protective and caring. He is wise and wonderful. He is strong in his values and his love of family and the gospel of Jesus Christ. He strives to be a good father, husband, provider, and citizen. He serves others, and works hard (we never thought this was possible!). But perhaps the thing that I love the most is with all that, he has a thirst for LIFE and doing, and being, and trying, and enjoying. He always has some new thing he has read, tried, thought about, or wants to try.
And not only that, he made me iodine free chocolate cake when I was going through treatment for my thyroid cancer, 'cause he loves me.
He's the Luke Skywalker to my Princess Leia and I will miss him.