on older brothers.

we were skinned-knee kids in a townhouse complex redolent of neverland: swooping streets and monkey pod branches shading pathways that crawled like a secret.


there were so many times in those days. the time we tied hulking cardboard wings to our arms and barreled down the back hill over and over, so sure we’d had lift-off for a hovering moment. the times we stomped trails in the towering cane fields and shrieked from spiders, big as hands. the time nate doodled on the neighbor’s convertible with permanent marker (k, technically i was too young to remember that one, but i do recall hearing it retold a bunch). the time we slung mudballs at ms-across-the-street’s fence and then had to go back to scrub it clean. the time i fell from the playground platform and smacked my skull hard and nate took off at a dead-sprint for help.


really, i’m not sure i can pull a single frame from that era that doesn’t contain my older brother. he was constant and everywhere and larger than life, usually egging me on against my careful judgment. every now and again i try to imagine the girl i'd be, had i not grown up close in his churning wake. but i give up right quick because any version of me minus nate is too boring to fathom.


he tilted my childhood brave and funny and teeming with adventure, and prepped me well for life with four boys of my own.


so nate? i s’pose i owe you pretty big. thanks for being my very first bestie.


:)