7...and Hammy

7 days until graduation, y'all.  I'm gettin' anxious now.

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My brother, Hambone, is fifteen months and sixteen days older than me...not that I'm counting or anything.  On this very day in 1979, he entered this world.

I've known him for my entire life.  I can't remember a time in my childhood when he wasn't there; we were inseparable.  To paraphrase one of my favorite Forrest Gump quotes, we was like peas and carrots.  Where he went, I went.  What he did, I did.

Rollerskating.

BMX jumping, racing, you name it.

A brief stint with skateboarding, the most interesting part of which for me was when Pop stole Hammy's board and flew down the hill toward Mr. Burger's house, going @$$ over apricots without ever spilling a drop of his beer, jumping up in a Superbowl-worthy victory dance.  It's one of those heroic things only a daddy can really pull off, and I'll never forget it.

Art.

The CB lot, fox hunts, a whole new group of friends.

As we've gotten older, things have gotten a bit more complicated.  Now there are separate households to run, jobs to work, responsibilities that weren't there ten, fifteen, twenty years ago.  But here's the beauty of being a sibling: complicated or not, he's still my big brother.  More often complicated than not, I'm still his little sister. 

We may not agree on every point, but there's one thing I know for sure.  As long as I walk this earth, I'm here for him. 

Big brother, if by some weird twist of fate you're sitting in front of someone's computer and reading this, I want you to know that - no matter what - you've got a friend in me.

I love you.

Happy 32nd birthday, Bro.