Tonight, I'd like to take a little stroll down Memory Lane, but first, I have a personal message to share. For the rest of you readers, I hope you'll bear with me for a moment as I address an email that I received through my Contact page last night.
To BBJ: I can't thank you enough for the kind words about my blog. It truly meant so much to me to receive your message. Unfortunately, when I tried to email you back, I realized that the email address you had provided was indeed a fake; there was no other way for me to reach you than to write here and hope that you visited my site again tonight. It was important to me to be able to say thank you for reaching out. Though you tried to remain anonymous with the made up name, deep down I think that I'm right in guessing that we both knew that I would figure out your identity. If I'm correct, then I think you'll understand my message tonight; if not, then thank you to the anonymous reader who just reached out to wish me well. If you are indeed who I believe you to be, however, then I want to leave you with this... I've meant every word that I've written in this blog, and if you're following my daily posts, then that gives me hope. What you wrote to me was true; everything does happen for a reason. Sometimes, however, that reason is simply that we made a wrong choice in life, and though it's hard to admit and to ask for forgiveness, that's what we must do in order to move on and be happy in life. It's okay if you've chosen the wrong path for a while; we all make mistakes, but it's important to learn from those mistakes and get back on the right path in life. Remember the old running joke about being lost for a few years at the beginning of life? It happens... maybe you just got lost again. That's okay. Look at how much the future holds, if you'll just let yourself be found again. I'm always here, waiting for you to open up. If you reach out to me again, I'll be ready and willing to help you navigate this chaotic mess we call life.
I remember growing up, we have always had the kids separated into two bedrooms: the boys' room and the girls' room. At times, when we were only a permanent family of four, my brother and I were the only two kids in the house. Sometimes we'd have a new sibling living with us, in one room or another. But my brother and I never shared a room. When something exciting would happen though, whether it be the night before a birthday, or maybe a night like Christmas Eve, we would make plans to have a sleepover on one of our bedroom floors. Well of course, being kids on the night before an exciting day, we would lay on the floor in our sleeping bags talking about what was to come, instead of going to sleep like we were supposed to.
Well I remember this one time in particular, though I don't know what the specific occasion was that warranted a sleepover, when my brother was a little too crazy at bedtime. We weren't just talking as we fell asleep; no, he was crazy that night, singing and laughing, and getting a bit rowdy. He had way too much energy, and I didn't know how to get him to calm down. So I told him that he should have done jumping jacks before bed to burn all of his energy off. Too late now, so I was just going to have to hope that he would eventually fall asleep. Boy, was I wrong. It wasn't too late at all in his eyes! He got right up and started doing jumping jacks on the sleeping bags! I told him that our parents would hear, and that he'd be in trouble, but he assured me that he was just following my advice and they wouldn't hear a thing. Of course, two seconds later the light in the hallway turned on, and he dove into the sleeping bag quicker than you could say, "shhhh!" My mom opened the door and told us that she knew we were awake, and that we'd better get to sleep so we'd be ready for whatever was going on the next day. I've never let my brother live that down. He blames it on me, I'm pretty sure, since the jumping jacks were my idea, but I swear I didn't tell him to get up and do them right then! It was hilarious though, no matter whose fault it was.
Another thing I remember about growing up with my brother is how many times he's hurt me... accidentally on purpose, I'm sure. Oh boy, the stories I could tell about the two of us and bodily harm. I'll just give a few examples here though. Once, we were wrestling on my parents' bed, and he ended up kicking me in the mouth and knocking out my loose tooth. Another time, he received those little kid play golf clubs for his birthday or Easter or something, and ended up hitting me with one. I think he also hit me instead of a piñata one time too! We certainly have had fun playing rough with each other, but unfortunately for me, he's always been the one who ends up laughing while I've always been the one who ends up getting hurt! But that's a brother for ya... leaves me missing teeth and gives me bruises, but if anyone else ever messed with me, he'd be the first one out there protecting me.
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