I am the oldest of four kids.
The older they get, the older I feel. I mean come on, I was waiting in the hospital the night my sister was born. I remember riding in the back of my grandpas station wagon, my grandpa driving faster than I had ever seen him drive before, attempting to get my mom and baby sister to the hospital before she made her appearance in the back of the car. All the while my little brother was sitting in the car seat between my mom and me, rubbing my thumb lol.
They drove me crazy. Sometimes I begged my mom to send them all three back to where ever the hell she got them from. After all, in a span of seven years I went from being an only child to the oldest of four. I hated it sometimes. Especially when I was battling it out with my brothers who thought they knew everything, to my sister (the baby) who got into all my stuff. Always. Every single day.
Left Pic: My sister, Brother Number 2, Brother Number 1
Right Pic: Me holding brother Number 2 and brother Number 1, on my first day of kindergarten.
We grew up and I found out more than once that these three people, they were going to be there for me no matter what happened. No matter what I went through. Like when I needed all my stuff out of the apartment I shared with Gaiges SD, my little brother was right there with my grandpa and I loading furniture into that Uhaul.
And when my mom was trying to skip out on my wedding right before the reception because of some bullshit drama with her husbands family, my other brother was there to put a stop to it and call her on that crap. Not only that did he paid for the keg at my wedding and both of my brothers went in on the DJ.
I can count on these three humans to have my back when it comes to anything happening in my life.
And should any of them need me, of course I will be right there for them too.
So the other day when my little sister called me as I was dropping off Owen at school crying I dropped what I was doing and high tailed it back home.
Her car had broken down on her way to work and as if this wasn't bad enough, the person she would have normally called to come get her. The person she would have normally called to see what she should do and to get her out of this pickle, he couldn't be called. And that was the worst part of the entire damn thing.
Of course D and I went to rescue her. Luckily he hadn't left for his grandmas while I was out dropping off Owen or I'd have been screwed cause I didn't know what to do without that person either. D checked out her car, but couldn't find anything wrong with it that he could fix while sitting on the side of busy road, so he waited for the tow truck to get there and road back to my grandpa's shop with the guy while my sister and I went to pick up Owen (he got sick at school).
Being the big sister can be a huge pain in my ass sometimes. And over the years I've found myself wishing that I were an only child (what oldest child doesn't feel that way though honestly?). But when it comes down to it, I know that without a shadow of a doubt I couldn't make it through life without the three of them. We have grown up the same way, been through the same BS childhood. And even though we all four have families of our own now (well, brother Number 1 doesn't have kids but he's got a girlfriend he lives with), we are who we fall back on. Always. For anything. Because we all know that one of us will be there. Always.
Which is the way we were raised. We were taught to be that caring and helpful. We were taught that we should be dependable, especially when it comes to family. He taught us that simply by showing us in the things he did for us and everyone around him every single day. So I would hope that even though he isn't physically around now, he's proud of the fact that we are the way we are with each other, because he was that way with us.
OK. I've rambled long enough. I just had to share. Cause I love those jackasses.
-Kristin
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