Heart exam

I loved kickball growing up, it was intense.  Going to a private school as a young child, it was the only game where everybody played.  You had the team captains who tried to pick the best players quickly so I generally was last.  Which was fine because more often than not it meant my brother picked me, I was his special weapon you see.  Part sacrificial lamb was I when I came up to kick.  David played to the crowd early reminding everyone of my fragile legs and tendency to fall before I got to first base so why not go easy on him.  I didn't mind so much I just wanted to kick.  My kicks never went out of the infield but I ran as though I was running from a wild stampede, each step possibly my last.  Then there was the falling, and the tearing of the corduroy pants (more patches for my pants thanks mom).  But at that base was my brother yelling at me to not give up, get mad Kev, get up Kev, they are going to get you Kev.  I got up.

Soon after we moved to public school and my brothers interest grew to cars and girls, but he always found time to play with me.  Our epic wrestling matches either concluded with me submitting to the camel clutch, or jumping from the top of the staircase as my favorite wrestler "Jimmy Superfly Snuka" did except the opponent layed still on the ground and David always rolled away.  Get up Kev *poke poke* are you still alive?  Oh yeah you are breathing.

He and I once had an epic battle with boards, in which one landed on my head and fastened itself there with a nail.  I thought it was cool to go inside and show mom as David ran up the street exclaiming "I did not do WHATEVER he said.  I was fine till I felt the blood coming down the side of my head, and I screamed.

I thought of these things as I sat with him at the hospital today while he had a angiogram done.  As I picked him up to take him to the hospital he was more concerned about my driving skills then his hospital arrival.  Don't worry Kev I'll be fine.

I thought back to the time as kids when I came home crying because a friend of his made fun of me and called me a few names not fit to print.  My brother disappeared and an hour later here appeared the boy, face bruised telling me he was sorry and he disappeared.  Or the time he wrote me a letter, right before he got married telling me to keep doing my exercises and that he loved me.  I feel sometimes I so freely tell people I care and love them almost to the point where those words may not have as much impact.  My brother says little in those regards, but when he does they attach themselves to me like pieces of armor that help me to press on during the day.  Get up Kev....Keep Going Kev...Feet down and straight Kev....You can do this.

We spent the day talking about ridiculous shows we watched and how i needed to support Erin and eat right to lose weight, we laughed at the old times where I nearly wrecked his 5-speed he tried to teach me to drive in, or today when I tried to turn left where there was no place to turn left.  Then there he was this larger than life person who always worked hard for everything that found things in me I didn't even know i had, lying there helpless.  Get up David, Get mad David you can do this.  Tonight he left the hospital to go to another hospital where his father-in law is dying of cancer.  I started to walk to my car when I heard, Kevin thank you and I walked back and we hugged.  My childhood hero hugged me and for that moment I was 10 again, and it felt just fine.  If you have a grudge tonight lose it, hug you kids, put others first.