My brother’s nickname is “Brother.” That’s what I call him, anyhow. His real name is David. He’s two years older than I am, and lives near Ft. Lauderdale. We only see one another three or four times per year. (he’s the one in the chair above)
We’re not distant, but we’re not overwhelmingly close. My brother is very quiet and guarded; I’m not. He comes to New York for visits, but they’re usually very quick. He’s wonderful with my kids, and they genuinely look forward to seeing their Uncle David (it doesn’t hurt that he always brings toys). I’ve always looked up to Brother, even if he doesn’t realize it or believe me. He’s significantly stronger than I am. I mean that in a tough sense. He has a remarkable ability to put his head down and charge ahead. He’s always been the harder worker; the softer heart; the smarter.
But he’s not a communicator–not without me having to ask 7,000 questions. He certainly has never said “I love you” or “Great job, Little Guy” (he has called me Little Guy for eons) or anything of that nature.
To be honest, I think “I love you” is vastly overrated. It’s nice to hear, sure. But it’s also cliched, and uttered without thought. Action, on the other hand, speaks volumes.
Today I went to the website Goodreads.com—a great resource for book information. My brother is a voracious reader, and he reviews every book he completes. He’s not a sports fan, but three of the books he read are mine. Here’s his review for Boys Will Be Boys: great book. I thought it was very interesting. I guess I am biased because the author is my brother.
Made my day.