For My Brother

I remember the sun setting over the driveway as Peter and I shot the last of the day’s free throws.  Dad came outside and told us we had a baby niece.  My heart jumped. 

At the hospital, I got my first glimpse of Tessa.  Those beautiful big brown eyes darted with life.

In the van on the way home, Peter said to me, “I finally get it.”  I knew what he meant.

You became a father because you had to, but you raise that baby girl because you have a love for her that is visible on your face every time you talk about her. 

I’d like to think that I could have done what you did.  That I could have given up on college and taken a full-time job stocking fruits and vegetables to pay for diapers and formula.  That I could have easily accepted the fact that I had to change my life in order to shape another.

With one glance inside your apartment, it is clear that you have given your life to her.  Her toys, paintings, games, markers and dolls are in every room.  The refrigerator is filled with juice boxes and popcicles.  She has the bedroom while you sleep on a mattress in the front room.  I remember asking you where your space is, and you said, “It’s all for her.”

While I’m at work, you’re actively advancing your career in real estate so that you and Tessa can have a better life.  While I’m taking graduate school classes, you’re helping Tessa with her homework, cheering her on at her tee ball games, or leading her Brownies group.  While I’m out partying in the bars, you’re at home, quietly making her lunches for the school week. 

I don’t know that I could do what you do, but when I see the way she looks at you, I know that you are her whole world; and she is yours.