Jay

When I was a kid, I wrote extensively in my journals (which sounded much more mature than "diaries") about how much I wished for an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister.

I had a younger brother.

God's punishment to a 10-year-old girl, apparently.

I was not a nice older sister.  I played pranks on my brother, I said horrible things, I tortured that kid.  And I don't remember his deflecting my cruelty very well.  I remember a lot of yelling for Mom, crying and running away.

That all ended the day I was 13 and he was 11 when I pushed him to the breaking point and he punched me in the face.  (I'll pause so you can cheer.)

Something shifted for us.  Or more, something shifted for me.  I can't say my brother changed because he'd always been a sweet kid.  I guess I finally started appreciating what other people already did. Maybe the punch knocked some sense into me.

(Disclaimer: Do not try this strategy at home.)

In high school, Jay was involved in community theater and took classes at a local performing arts studio.  His encouragement got me involved too, and pretty soon, he and I had a common group of friends.  We hung out together.  We actually had fun together.  My brother became my friend.

I went off to college - to Syracuse - to major in theater.  When it was his turn to look at colleges, I lobbied for him to join me.  My brother decided instead to go to Florida State where all theater majors were tan, in-shape and happy.  (Not only was my brother kind, he was smart.)  Since this was pre-Internet, we wrote letters, sent cards, called... He was a grounding force.

My first professional theater job after graduating from college was in Roanoke, Virginia, and wouldn't you know, I got to work with my brother.  It was pure summer camp! Man, we had a blast.  In the fall, I moved to NYC to live the dream and Jay went back to college.  Surprise, surprise - The theater world wasn't as psyched to see me as I thought it would be, and when I visited Jay at school, I conjured up this hair-brained idea that I'd move down to Tallahassee to write while he finished school.  I told him how cool it would be if we got an apartment together.

(Doesn't that sound like fun?  Have your sister invite herself to join you for your college experience?)

But my brother is kind and smart and compassionate.  He let me down easy and said I was just scared of the transition.  Hang in there, he said.  I did and it ended up working out pretty well, I think.

Fast forward 20-some years and a lot more life transitions and huge events.

So here we are now.  Jay lives three subway stops away with his great family (wife and 3 kids).  Last night I went to his sons' school's fundraiser, which Jay had not only helped to organize but performed in.  I watched him onstage with such... awe.  I was suddenly so overwhelmed by the rich lives we have lived and our shared experiences in them.  Who would I be without him?  I am amazed and humbled by the person he is... I guess at the person he has always been.

I am SO glad that God didn't read my diary.  I may not deserve him, but I like having the brother I got.