Please Take Me Home

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I’m not sure how many of you have siblings, or how those relationships have lasted over the years, but one thing I can say for sure, is that while growing up, they could bug the piss out of you a hundred different ways every day.

I’m the oldest of three, a younger brother in the middle and a smaller sister as the baby. We are all separated by almost two years, four between me and the youngest. Close enough in age to drive everyone in the house mental. I don’t know how my mother did it. By my age she was pregnant with her third and had two in diapers.

While you’re younger, you wish the whole time to be older. As a child, your siblings were the least favorite group of people on your list and you might have went to the extremes to avoid them. Especially during those teenage years, yikes!

Then you grow up, realize it was a scam and fight to be young for the rest of your life. Ironic?

What they don’t tell you, though you heard it from your parents all the time growing up, was that you were going to miss your brothers and sisters. Usually at least one flies the coop, so far you have to fly, and you don’t see them for years on end. You think about it, and how much you took those growing years for granted and it actually kinda sucks.

I’ve been finding myself reminiscing on the old days when I would wake up and see their infuriating faces on the regular and how much I disgustingly miss it. Am I having an-almost-thirty-in-four-years crisis?

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From left: Me, My sister Kel & My brother J

Even though there are days, like during holidays, that I am grateful it’s not hectic or overwhelming to keep up with family. I’m appreciative that I had an opportunity to grow up with two annoyances and treasure memories the three of us had.

It was summer break and my family had taken its annual summer vacation. This year, we were at Wildwood, NJ enjoying the theme parks and water rides. My brother, as you should know, has never been the kind of guy you want in a sticky situation. 

There we were, riding rides and enjoying the summer heat when a bunch of storm clouds started to creep in and block our sunny view. The park was going to close because strong rain had already blown through and there was more on the way, with lightning and thunder in between. 

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While quickly exiting the park grounds, we all shuffled out into the parking lots, which were back then still gravel, not sure what they look like now, but nonetheless keep that in mind. 

As the winds began to pick up and whip around us again, it picked up the dust and dirt with small rocks in it. It made a small dust cloud that swooped up into the sky, about three feet off the ground. After it spent a few seconds twirling it vanished.

My brother took it upon himself to let everyone know that there was a tornado coming. He screamed it while he ran in circles. Had I only been old enough to understand the looks being shot our way, I could’ve shared the embarrassment with my parents.

For years, when ever he bugged us, a storm cam through, or was just asking for it, we would stop what we were doing, run around in circles and scream “tornado, tornado! A tornado is coming!” 

I told you my favorite sibling story, so what’s yours?

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