For a long time my immediate family consisted of my Dad, my Mom, my younger sister (Dokey) and me. Then we lost my Dad to the bottle and eventually to his emphysema and the lung cancer and it was just us girls. We wore our battle scars differently but were united survivors- tight-knit, over-protective and fiercely loyal to one another. My Mom, my sister and I relied on each other as friends as well as family. We were an inseparable trio.
Enter: Double B.
My sis had dated a fair share of boys but was by no means a shameless flirt bordering on hussy like her older sister. (That’d be me for those of you who are trying to catch up.) Double B and Dokey became pretty much inseparable from their first date. On their second date, Double B showed up at my Mom’s door to pick up my sister only to be greeted with scrutiny and the incredulous question, “Did you have BLUE hair yesterday?” (The answer was “yes” she just hadn’t noticed.)
The years have rolled by since then. There have been small moments- nights spent over board games and too much booze, simple dinners accompanied by belly laughs, dancing with Finn to Jurassic 5 in the living room- and bigger moments- Christmas in Mexico, coming to my aid when I fell and gave myself a bloody concussion, helping me move into my first apartment in Seattle (and my second). And then the biggest moments of them all. . . the two of them standing sweetly under trees lit with tiny lanterns exchanging vows and me standing up with them, toasting their union and their love. They filled me with hope that it WAS possible. That maybe that could happen to me too someday despite my best efforts to sabotage it. And then years later when Finn came into the world- there we were, me holding my sister’s left hand as Double B held the right and we watched her push that beautiful boy into a room surrounded with so much love. I watched as Double B’s tears fell as he looked at his son for the first time overcome with precious emotion.
These are the moments that bound us to another. These are the moments that make up a life.
Double B is an easy-going guy who is skilled at many things like building wall cat scratchers and kitty ledges to occupy my cats, precisely hanging shelving and framed art, and making hands down the most delicious french toast ever. He lives up to his nickname “basket ace” at disc golf, knows all the words to certain (if not all) King Missile songs, and in his hey day concocted some very powerful cocktails at their annual holiday party. He’s a stand up guy who tells corny jokes and always runs out to pick up the take out. And he is an awesome dad to Finn who absolutely adores him.
All this is to say that over time this man who was once just some guy with blue hair who courted my younger sister has now become, I’m proud to say, my brother.
Happy Birthday, Double B.
I love you.