bubba icky

i was only a year and a half when he joined our family. my dad tried to get me to say 'brother eric' but it came out as 'bubba icky.' i've called him that ever since. i no longer like the correct pronunciation. when we were younger, he probably should have annoyed me as a typical little brother should. perhaps he didn't because he's not a typical little brother or because he's always been more of a friend than a brother. don't get me wrong, he still found ways to tie me up in my sleep, sabotage my tea parties, and throw me in the pool fully dressed. but without such things, what would a little brother be?

growing up so close in age, our friends and activities, interests and hobbies often overlapped. i played legos with him, he played school with me. our two story clubhouse was a water balloon fort, cruise ship, camper, whale spotter, and the location for the toad olympics [the best event was when the one where we put the toads on the roof to see if they would survive the 15 foot drop. toads are resilient!] i was his magician's assistant and bike riding partner. we spent our summers ruining our clothes with tar on the streets and bubble fights in the kitchen from the dinner dishes. the memories together are too numerous to recount.

i was nine and he was seven when great-grandma johnson passed away. grandma johnson would have called herself a collector though to everyone else she looked like a packrat. i remember walking down a narrow passage in her house between piles and piles of cookbooks, many her own. then there were her dolls in the living room, the large one in the corner always seemed to be looking at me. i never returned to her bedroom after one time i peeked in and saw her wigs lined up on their styrofoam heads on the dresser. i had always wondered why her hair looked blue.

when grandma died, mom put a giant grocery bag full of jewelry in front of me for me to select some pieces to remember her by. i wished i would have realized then that all fashions cycle...what i wouldn't give for that jewelry now! but i didn't and instead picked a silly starfish with pearls on it and and watch that didn't work. eric peered over my shoulder curiously; he carefully scanned his eyes over the shinny pieces. he picked a few up, inspected them only to place them back into the pile and look for another.

'what are you doing?' i said as i pushed him away. 'this is for girls.'
'i want to pick out a piece.' he said.
he selected a small, black pendant with gold trim. in the center was a black rose surrounded by small quartz stones, though many gone.
'someday, when i get married, i'm going to give this to my wife.'
'it's ugly,' i told him, 'she'll never like it. no girl wants black jewelry.'
he looked at it thoughtfully. 'someday i'll give it to her and she'll love it because she loves me.'
i rolled my eyes. yuck.

on saturday, my brother became a husband. after six and a half years of dating, he made megan his bride. the wedding was beautiful and the reception a wonderful celebration of their lives together. people where there from all chapters of their lives, family from both sides, and friends who have been essential in the building of their foundation together.

before the festivities were in full swing, i pulled out of the bottom of my jewelry box a little black pendant. one spring when we were cleaning the basement, i ran across the little treasure. assuming my brother had forgot his promise, i stored the piece myself until it could be given to a new owner. i told the story again to them both and placed it in eric's hand. he smiled at megan as she pinned it on her shirt, 'i love it' she exclaimed. he told me long ago she would.

congratulations to you both.
as iron sharpens iron,
may you be refined and strengthened by each other.
may God make your lives together beautiful.

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