Late September of 1998, when I was 15 years old my parents brought home my cousin’s son that was going to stay with us a few days. I played with baby dolls until I was 15….maybe older so I was over the moon excited at the opportunity to ‘take care of a baby. He didn’t really cry or really make any noise, he was a really good baby. A few days later my parents presented my sister and I, with the idea of adopting him. I remember this day so clearly. We were driving him back to my aunt’s house when my parents started talking to us about the idea. All I could think is, he deserves to have the same opportunities I have. My parents wanted us to really think about the idea and be prepared for how much our lives would change. We would all have to help to make it work for him. We thought about this for a week. After a week he was no longer my cousin he was forever my little brother from that day forth.
Let’s be clear I thought I was prepared but I was nowhere near prepared. I would help get him dressed in the morning. Pick him up after school since I got home before everyone else, change diapers, give baths. I don’t know one of my high school friends that didn’t know my little brother because he was often with me. I wanted to help and I enjoyed helping. The hardest part of it was how attached he was to my mom. I was the baby before he walked to into our lives. I mean I was carried until I was at least 9 or 10 years old. I enjoyed being the baby or the youngest. Now I was no longer the youngest. I didn’t get as much attention and it was hard. I didn’t act out in any way. I just became quietly frustrated with my brother.
Frustrated with how many times he wanted to play the same game over and over and my parents were so patient with him. Frustrated with how amazed they were with his learning. Frustrated that he needed someone’s help all the time. All parents know toddlerhood is a rough season to go through, parents are bound to be frustrated at times with the same things from their toddler. I had no idea though, I was a teenager and felt bad for the way I felt. These emotions however were a window for me, it’s what my older two daughters expressed to me after I had my third. There is a 9 year age gap between my second and third so it was an adjustment for them both, honestly, it still is. Growing up I would feel so bad for being frustrated with him but it was a normal sibling emotion to have. You fight with your siblings but would fight anyone for them.
This year late September my brother had a little boy. Though we couldn’t be there at the hospital my mom, sister, and I ate up the play-by-play he sent us via text messages and Group FaceTime calls. I am so thankful his girlfriend was so patient with us all, we know we are extra. Little Bryson took his time and finally arrived after over 24 hours of laboring. So thankful for
all the hard work Briana put in to bring him into the works sage because he is
such a blessing.
My brother is now a father. This little person that I helped to care for and love is now a father. I am so proud of him and so thankful to call him my brother.
Let me end this by saying little Bryson was anergy all while I took pictures of him. I rocked and hummed for 2 hours before I refused to upset him anymore. So I don’t have many photos of him. Don’t worry I will be shooting him again mostly his whole life part.