sibling stuff.

So I have talked at you before about how I was an only child... how it's kind of blah to be the only one. I have also posted (a lot) about how much I love my husband. Well, woven into that story comes another story that I love. 

When I got married I got brothers too. 

Yosi comes from a family of three boys. Osmar is almost(!) 17, and Daniel is 12. They are some special guys. I don't say that because I'm obligated though. I say it because it's true. I love both of these guys so much. In this post I'm going to talk about Osmar, but Daniel's is coming soon along with the project that him and I are working on together. 

So this Osmar and I have always had a special kind of bond. There was a time shortly after Yos and I got married where we lived with his folks (...yep, that's another post for another day). And while it was an overall trying time, it was a perfect time for some bonding with this guy. I would help him with his homework and he would help me with Christian or would come along on errands. He was at that age where it was cool to hang out with his brother's wife, and we did just that.

Fast forward a couple of years and he is getting grown up before my very eyes! Turns out he is good at everything (think: soccer, track, basketball, anything that involves being fast, math, charming his female classmates, being a friend and teammate) and I'm kind of proud of him. Kind of a lot. 

I get sit on the stands and cheer him on as he runs, or dribbles, or makes goals. I got to sit in the passenger seat of the car when he learned to drive. I get to sit on the couch with him when his high school problems warrant some advice. I got to sit and watch him walk into his first day of work. I get to sit at the dinner table with him and talk to him about college visits and long term goals. I got to sit on the floor of his room with him when his first love found someone else. I get to watch him turn into the fine young man that I knew he would be (afterall, Yos has set an pretty impressive example).

I get a brother. And he gets a sister. And while he may not admit it now, I know that it is something we both cherish. It probably helps that we didn't grow up together. There is no sibling rivalry, or grudges, or terrible memories of wrestling over toys at Christmas. Instead there is this camaraderie, trust, and respect. 

I didn't know much about sibling love. About how when you see them succeed you feel so much pride it almost hurts. Or how when you see them struggling... well that hurts too. It's a role I treasure, and I am so thankful that my husband just happened to come with some siblings. 

The other day I was talking with some classmates and I heard myself say "You know, my brother mentioned ..." And even though it's been quite a few years, hearing it still brings a big grin to my face. 

Until next time,
Carmen