Happy Wednesday, everyone! In honor of Siblings Day, I wanted to tell you about a significant moment for my brother and me. It’s a moment I reference when I try to depict his and my relationship. Honestly, I'm not really sure why this moment made such an impact. But (as you may have noticed) I love exploring why certain events stay with us.
My brother Jon and I were never the kinds of siblings who tattled on each other. We were a team (for the most part). We had the same friends — kids of varying ages who lived in our neighborhood — so we played together a lot. I also liked to play by myself (as I mentioned in last week’s story). One of my favorite activities was climbing trees. I did it all the time, and I loved pushing myself to go higher and higher. My parents didn’t mind me climbing, although they would always remind me to be careful.
One particular early spring day, I was up in one of my regular trees. I was feeling good, starting to become more familiar with the branches, so I was slowly making my way higher and higher. Every time I found a new path upwards, adrenaline would shoot through my body.
I guess I didn’t realize how high I was; I was too busy looking up. But at some point, I felt the trunk sway a little, and I was shocked to see how small my friends looked down below.
I didn’t want to admit the height had startled me, so I shouted down to my brother, who was playing nearby: “Hey, Jon! Look at me!”
Initially, he couldn’t figure out where my voice was coming from. When he finally looked up, finally saw me in the barren tree, I heard a sharp cry.
Then he was running back home.
“Jon!” I shouted after him, but to no avail.
I sighed, started mumbling to myself: “I’m fine. I know how to get down.”
My heart was pounding the entire time, though. I was relieved when my feet touched the ground.
When I got to our backyard, my mom and Jon were waiting.... I was in trouble. Mom hadn’t seen how high I was, but she could see it on my brother’s face. So now there was a new house rule: I wasn’t allowed to climb trees without supervision anymore.
At first, I was mad at Jon for jumping the gun. If he had waited, I would have told him I was fine to climb down. But, again, it wasn’t like my brother to tattle, so he must have been genuinely scared. Looking back now, he was probably also so young. I must have been about eight years old, so he would have been around five.
I think the inherent protectiveness we feel for our siblings is so beautiful. I love the way my brother and I come to each other’s defense and are there for each other in a crisis. I know my brother gets me more than anybody else: he knows what I’m made of and he’s watched me grow up.
What makes your relationship with your sibling special? Let me know in the comments below!
