My not-so-little brother

Yesterday I was heading out for a jog, and my mom suggested that my brother Bryson go with me, so he laced up his shoes and we headed on out. We'd never gone running together and I wasn't sure if he'd get a little annoyed at my pace. His legs are twice the size of mine, so clearly he'd be faster. I've been having knee trouble for a while which has slowed me down. I have to run for a stretch, then walk, then run, then walk, just to be sure I don't cause more injury to my poor little knee. We started off by walking for a bit, then I said, "Okay, let's run from this corner to that one", pointing up ahead. At first Brys was a little hesitant of going ahead of me, but let's face it, he could probably walk the pace I run. So he pushed ahead and would look back every now and then to check on me. When he made it to the corner he waited and when I got there he said, "Good job! How's your knee?". We continued the same process for 3 1/2 miles; running, then walking, then running again. After each run, without fail, he repeated those words "Good job! How's your knee?".

As his older sister, I feel like I've taken care of him throughout our lives. I remember years and years ago, picking out his clothes on Sunday mornings and helping him get dressed. I remember playing with him while he was in diapers and him laughing at the silly songs I'd sing to him. I remember helping him put on his helmet before we rode our bikes. Yesterday I realized something: Our roles have shifted a bit. He's taking care of me now. It's strange to see him as this adult, but he is. Every time he looked back on our run to check on me and every time he told me good job and asked how my knee was, he was being genuine. He is a sweet boy, that's who he is through and through. There isn't are prideful bone in his body.

It's hard for me to see him as a grown-up. I'll probably always see him as that cute blonde-haired boy who loved to play with the hose all summer long. I'll always want to take care of him, and I will as much as I can, but I'll let him take care of me too.

Love you Brys.