Fifty years ago tomorrow, my younger brother was born. It is crazy for me to know that I can actually remember something that happened fifty years ago. I was four years old. I don't remember much. I do remember knowing that my mother was in the hospital. And my older sister, who I adored, stayed with me. We made homemade blueberry muffins together, and I got to help. That wasn't something that normally happened around our house, and it made a big impression on me.
My brother lost his foot in a work-related accident several years ago. That would make some people feel sorry for themselves or become bitter, but he has an upbeat attitude about life. He works hard to help his family have a good life, and enjoys his wife and two little children. He has a dry, wry sense of humor that makes me laugh. He has a gratitude about his life that is refreshing. He's a good man.
And he's fifty. My "little" brother is fifty. I hope being fifty is as good for him as it was for me. The best part of my life started when I turned fifty. I wish the same for him. Health, happiness, love, cake and ice cream. And maybe some blueberry muffins. Yeah. That would be great.
Susan
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