My little brother

I have the greatest little brother in the whole universe. Try as you may, but you will never convince me otherwise. 

the beachiest and best freckles in our family

Our relationship began on rocky terms. It all began when my mom and dad called my older brother and I into the living room. They sat us down, and looked at us with stern and concerned faces. Will and I both knew we were just going to get talked to about not bothering our grandmother too much, as she had just moved into our home. We had heard it all before. But nanny had hardwood floors, recently finished, SO PERFECT for sock sliding. I knew I had sock slid earlier that afternoon and I was fully prepared to not listen to my parents.

muted freckles in the winter. see the scar above his lip? it's from fighting crime

So they began with "we have something important to talk to you two about", and I, knowing the impending list of rules and regulations about sock sliding and all of the dangers involved, and being unable to hold back my snotty wit, retorted with "oh, don't tell me, you're pregnant", followed with a roll of the eyes.

My parents looked at me, mouths agape. Then at each other. Then back at my older brother and I. And much to my surprise, my mother said, "how did you know?"

Then it was my turn to drop my jaw.

And then came the day of the ultrasound that told us if we were going to have a John Robert or a Mary Grace. Will and I had a bet going. He was convinced it was a boy. I was sure it was a girl. I was the one who picked the name Mary Grace! If it was a boy my hopes and dreams would be dashed, my name-picking genius would be wasted and I would still be the only person in our house who cared about dressing up the dog and American Girl dolls. 

Mom and dad walked in the door, VHS tape in hand. Will and I sat on the couch, wringing our sweaty palms, waiting impatiently to see our little sibling exposed ruthlessly on our television screen.

You're going to have a boy.

Cheers erupt from Will's side of the couch.

Tears and wailing from mine.

But then he came along, according to the doctors, about 2 months too soon. He gave everyone quite the scare, needing an emergency C-section in the middle of the night due to complications from placenta previa.

I remember going to the hospital to see my new little brother and being told I was too young to be allowed in the NICU. But, just like when I found out he was a boy, I turned on the water works, and this time I got my way. I got to go back and see him with tubes in his little tiny nose and a clip with a bright red light on his little tiny toes. He didn't open his eyes, which made me sad, because I had worn my favorite church outfit to see him in the hospital.

The 5 pound little baby that I had to cry to even get a glimpse of has grown into a tall gangly boy who I can barely pick up anymore. His sweet demeanor has made him a favorite among peers and adults. His correct sense of righteousness gave him the guts to stand up to the school bully (and break his own hand in the process). He knows the rosary better than I do. He memorized General Patton's famous speech and delivered it to his 4th grade class, much to the dismay of his teacher and the delight of my father. He told me once, in a very "duh" attitude that he has prayed for his vocation.

My little brother is the only one in our family to never live abroad, the only one without blue eyes, the only one born in the 90s and the only one to take away my long standing position as baby of the clan. He probably doesn't know it, but he was the greatest final addition to our family. My pride is one of my biggest obstacles to holiness, but for little John, I can lay that down and humbly say he is the greatest littlest sibling.