Today is your 23rd birthday.
I remember when Mom was pregnant with you. I was staying with Natalie during the days that summer you were born. Every night, when Mom would pick me up, we’d go to Wendy’s for Frosties. She was pregnant and hot, and I was 10. We joked that you’d be born chocolate.
We didn’t know if you were a boy or girl. Except Mom knew, and I knew, and everyone knew. Intuition. And we knew your name would be Drew. Well, everyone except your dad, who was holding out for Seth. (As if his preference has ever even once outweighed Mom’s. Heh.) I sided with Mom on Drew, by the way. You’re welcome.
The first time I saw you, your head was under a big bubble behind the glass of the hospital nursery. I looked through the window and saw your little body in a glass bed, your head obscured by the fog of oxygen you needed after very nearly dying before you took your first breath.
You had almost died, but all I could think was, I have a brother.
Your first day at home, I remember Mom sleeping on the couch, with you in a bassinet nearby. All I wanted to do was wake you up. Seriously. All. I. Wanted. To. Do. The way I remember it, I stared at you for hours with my own wide-open eyes, willing you to wake up. I was so excited to have a sibling. You were finally here, and I just wanted to play with you.
Of course, you were too tiny and fragile for that for a long time. And by the time you *were* ready to play, I was in high school.
So we both kinda grew up as only children. And that’s unfortunate because I don’t think I got to pay much attention to you when you were growing up, and I don’t think I got to know you the way most siblings do.
What I do know is that you’re a fantastic person. You’ve always seemed like such a wise, old soul. You have a strong sense of what is good and right and ethical, and you’re a thinker. You’re not content to believe everything that is fed you, no matter the source; you arrive at your own conclusions about Truth. And you’re responsible. This was true even when you were much younger. As soon as you had your first, minimum-wage job, you wanted to give Mom money for groceries.
But above everything else, you’re kind. If your niece and nephews grow to have half the compassion you have, I’ll be happy. Thank you for sharing that with them.
I love you very much.
Drew and Kieran, June 2001:
Love, Sissy
