Skip to main content

Viewpoint from a little sister

Garth Stein in his novel "The Art of Racing in the Rain" speaking from the perspective of a canine named Enzo said, "To live every day as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I would like to live. To feel the joy of life..."

I have six older brothers. That is what I tell people when they ask about my family. Six older brothers. I have lost one to mystery, one to death, and momentarily lost one behind high-closed-depressing walls. I have one who loves to joke and makes swords and knives and shields out of duct tape for his sons. One who serves his country and daily lives with a gigantic dose of faith and fortitude and praises God with that life. I have one who loves to sing off key with his windows down, who reads the world around him with a keen inspecting eye. The love they each have for the wives and their children.



I remember riding on their shoulders, their backs, their knees. I remember having food stolen off my plate. I remember bandaged knees and exasperated voices. I remember concerned eyes, excited cries, loving tears. I remember angry words, dodging moving cars, screaming. I remember being invited to play pretend, to play D&D, the invitation to be more.



I remember calm encouragement, gentle reprimand, testimonies over telephone calls.

I remember heroes.



To live your life as if you had stolen it from death is to live life to the fullest. To live life the way your heroes would be proud of.

How do you live your life that way?
You laugh at your mistakes
You smile through pain
You memorize sunsets and sunrises
You listen when people speak to you and reward you with tales of their lives
You praise God with your voice and your tears
You tell the people you love that you love them
You find the peace that lives within you
You live the happiness that is a natural part of your inner most part - your spirit is a being of joy

That's what I think so far anyway.

Life can be so hard. So hard you sometimes think that you won't make it. I know how that feels. I know the feeling of being completely... lost. Feeling in the dark. I know heartache and heartbreak and disappointment. I know sorrow and deep grief.

And some days I am grateful I know how that feels. Because although they have been hard lessons, they have made me who I am.

And sometimes when I reach out, there is a brother there to help me pick back up my pieces. I love that. Despite my hardships I'm really quite lucky.

I'm a younger sister. My brothers annoy me a lot. But they also inspire me to be great. And I know what joy is from having them in my life.






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

getting to and through YEAR ONE

Hello? Oh, Hello there! I am excited to talk more about my summer as I enjoy the last few days before I dive into studying hard. It is almost the beginning of the second year of medical school. Last year was one of the hardest years of my life. I experienced more pain, suffering, doubt, tears, and heartache than I have ever before in such large doses. I staggered under the weight of my fears and found myself often on my knees with no where else to turn. It was a beautiful place to find myself. Of course it is easy to say that now, looking back as I stand proud. There was a lot that went into my decision to go to medical school. Ultimately it took a lot of prayer and a lot of planning. It took a lot of service hours, a lot of hard work in my undergrad, a lot of conversations with my mother. It was a grueling process which no one can understand until you've been through it. I often doubted I was making the right choice. As I was preparing for the MCAT, which is the entr
I woke up this morning and after getting some breakfast I stepped out into the dim light of predawn and stood barefoot in the grass. I felt the dew on my feet and the soft cool morning air on my face and hands. I listened but the birds were still asleep. Taking a pair of scissors, I cut a bloom from the rose bush outside my back door.  Life is messy. And sometimes unkind. It is confusing, painful and discouraging. But an amazing thing happens when we decide to take it just one day at a time. It is a lesson I have to learn over and over. Sort of like Charity or Humility or Optimism. I have decided to have faith over fear. To trust that although I can't know what will happen, that a perfect Being who loves me does. And trusting in that is more important to me than knowing. So while it is difficult, and some would say perhaps a cop out for dealing with life, I choose to trust that God cares enough about me to have my best interests at heart. And if He has decided to not share

To My Dad

To this day, one of my favorite smells is the mix of motor oil and orange scented cleaner. My dad is a mechanic and the cleaner was what he used (uses?) on his hands. Whenever we went camping, my dad always brought his guitar. That is one of the reasons I play too. One of the only memories I have of childhood is after I learned to ride a bike. One day I dragged my dad all over town on our bikes. We stopped for Creamies and squeaky cheese at this little dairy store that is no longer there. I always loved my orchestra concerts. I think more than the playing and being on stage, I loved knowing that if my dad had made it to the concert, I was going to be able to get ice cream with him at the nearby Artic Circle. My dad taught me how to camp, how to love old country music, how to make cookies...my dad makes a mean cookie! Thinking of his smile and laughter Always makes me miss him. And then I cry. He taught me it's okay to cry, even if you're a tough old mechanic. By e