Samsmom: Life, Joy, Loss and Loving your Mitochondria

Something happens to the older sibling.

We don’t ask for it. We don’t really anticipate it. But somewhere in our early life, someone plopped a squirmy, warm little cherub in our lap and said that this was our little sib and it was our job to make sure they made their way in life.

Which is natural.

Not.

Because really, we’re like 2, 3 maybe 4? And this little person is set in our little laps.

And we don’t know enough to question.

But everything set before us had a reaction to an action, we push it and it squeaks, we hit it and it lights up, we bite it and it tastes good.

And our parents set their next precious little in our lap.

Push? Hit? Bite?

“No, love your little brother, give him a kiss.”

Love? We really haven’t figured out the potty but no matter.

And the Grandparents flash the kodak camera and go smoke a ciggy.

Because it was 70’s and anything goes.

My Little Bro was plopped in my lap at 1974. To give the elders grace, they did make sure your diaper was clean, that you were fed, and your head smelled good.

They also knew I was a pro at going wee in the potty and not on the baby.

Well played 70’s parents.

Well played.

Your head smelled amazeballs….better than it ever had in future scenarios. And I was hooked.

You became my little brother.

I became your big sis.

And that was it. Forever in my life, once you were plopped in my lap. I am your keeper.

A keeper in the late 70’s, early 80’s meant that there was cereal in the pantry. That the milk had not turned, that someone had the key to the front door.

That we had a quarter to call a friend…..or play PacMan, your choice.

And we did it. Us two. Our young parents got divorced. It was a bit ugly. The dog died.

But we still had cereal. The key still worked. And somewhere along the way, we found our way.

You found football. You found it at a young age and I watched this kid who wore plaid pants and a striped shirt turn into a confident kid. A cool kid. An Athlete. You bloomed.

You showed up at my University.

At 16 you announced yourself at a fraternity party as Ryan from University of Washington.

People asked if I had met the guy from UW. Seriously?

He’s my brother. He’s a sophomore at Highlands Ranch High School. And no Kelly, you cannot hook up with him

Didn’t matter Little Bro. You are unstoppable.

Homecoming King, NOLS graduate, Winter Park Jr. Ski Patrol, Gonzaga Crew, best freaking friend, the most amazing dad, loyal brother.

A friend of mine called you James Bond. Of course he did.

And now we are here Lil Bro.  

Today, after 13 years of battling an adult-onset mitochondrial disease, your electric wheelchair is on it’s way.

And after 13 years, I think I am ready to truly tell your story if you will let me.

Ryan, you are amazeballs, and your head still smells kinda okay.

And your boys are good humans….but their feet smell…..seriously.

 And I am your big sister- making sure the milk has not turned.

But Life has turned, as it does. Keep being unstoppable.