Sometimes You Can Go Home.......

I went "home" for the 4th of July weekend.  In my wildest dreams I never imagined the weekend would be as incredible as it was.  There wasn't anything in particular that made the weekend so special.  Looking back, though, I realize that what made it special was a combination of both looking back on incredible memories and creating new ones with the people who are most important to me --- the people that have known me the longest and have seen both the good and the bad in me.

I completed a 5k on July 4th.  Don't misunderstand me --- my college roommate and I were literally the last two people to finish.  The thing is, though, I was able to do it 4 weeks post surgery.  I was able to be comfortable doing it knowing that I would likely be last and that would be the best I could do that day (as running wasn't really an option).  I was able to be happy being outside, being with friends and family, and finishing my daily exercise before 9 a.m.  I was able to be satisfied knowing that I was on my way back to being able to run in the way that I wanted to.  I was able to smile thinking back to college and asking my college roommate if she ever envisioned that we would enter, much less finish, a 5k together.  I loved that a group of us were out there together on July 4th, exercising together, and even though my father wasn't able to do the fun walk because of recent surgery, he was out there with us and a part of it.



My cousin, my college roommate, and me at the 5k on July 4.  Very different than we were as students in Madison.



My brother is the only boy in the family.  He is 6 years younger than me so I have, admittedly, "mothered" him more than I should.  I know it annoys the hell out of him, but sometimes I just can't help myself because even though he towers over me and turned 30 this past weekend, he will always be my "little" brother.  Sometimes we fight because we don't see things eye to eye.  We are both hard headed (when it comes to certain things) and we don't want to give in.  This weekend I really tried to see him as an adult instead of my "little" brother.  I met some of his friends.  Spent time getting to know (really know) his fiance.  I did the things that he wanted to do instead of insisting that he do the things that I wanted to do.  It was special that some of the people that HE wanted sitting around the table for his 30th birthday dinner were my best friends; he wanted them there because he loves them, independently from my relationship with them, and considers them important in his life. 



My brother, my sister, and me at his 30th birthday dinner.




My sister, soon to be sister-in law, brother, and me at his 30th birthday dinner.



We have been friends for over 20 years.  Love that my brother considers them his good friends as well.



My brother is truly a mensch. He isn't infallible; no one is.  He has chosen a path in life that doesn't involve an office or putting on a suit and tie every day --- a path that makes him happy (but isn't so "normal" when you grow up in the North Shore of Milwaukee).   The thing that I truly realized about my brother is that he does the right thing without debating whether he should.  He would give you the shirt off of his back (generally some type of vintage t-shirt) if you needed it.  He has gotten the short end of the stick in many situations, but he doesn't dwell on it or let it affect him on a daily basis.  It is for these things that I can't be really upset with him if he wears a pattern t-shirt (that shows through) under a white polo shirt or white collared shirt or if he wants to wear Rod Laver Adidas sneakers with the tuxedo at his wedding. 

I have done a lot of things in the last 30 years to piss off my brother.  Some of the things were legitimate and others weren't.  Even when my brother was most mad at me, though, he has stood by me in relation to pursuing things like running.  I've caught a lot of grief lately (admittedly, deserved) for being so hard headed that I ended up needing surgery.  My brother didn't give me grief about it.  Instead, he seemed to understand where I was coming from --- that running the half marathon was something that I needed to prove to myself.  He understood why I'm pushing myself in PT and why I can't wait to really run again.

I brought Atticus Circle (www.atticuscircle.org) t-shirts to Milwaukee for everyone in my family.  My brother is known for always having creative t-shirts.  He loved the Atticus Circle t-shirt.  He wore it out to the 4th of July fireworks. 

My brother doesn't get involved in politics.  He doesn't get involved in controversy.  We have never had an in depth discussion about civil rights, religion, or anything broaching a similar topic.  I had a sense of what he believed, but didn't know for sure.  I was so proud of him when he told me the story of one of his friend's reactions to his Atticus Circle t-shirt.  I wasn't there, but it went something like this:

Friend, looking a bit puzzled: "Nice t-shirt."

Brother, with a smirk on his face: "Thanks."

Friend, fumbling a bit: "Are you gay?"

Brother, with smirk on his face that is more like a shit eating grin: "No, why would you ask that?"

Friend: "People are going to think you are gay if you wear that t-shirt."

Brother: "Wearing this t-shirt means I'm gay?"

Friend: "They are going to think you are gay."

Brother: "It says 'gay? fine by me.'  It is fine by me.  Makes you think, doesn't it."

My brother telling me this reminded me of something Scout Finch said in To Kill a Mockingbird.  (Atticus Circle is named for Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird.  Scout, who is roughly 8 years old in the book, said, "I think there's just one kind of folks.  Folks."  Seeing my "little" brother as an adult, a man who stands up for what he believes in even though it may be controversial, was a part of creating new memories.  It was a part of what made my weekend so special.