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Monday, January 9, 2012

What My Brothers Taught Me

Some of you (most of you) know that I have two older brothers, Aaron and Adam. Aaron is thirteen months older than me, Adam is my twin brother and older by seven minutes. It's been a long-standing family joke that in my unwillingness to be born combined with my in-born challenging nature and desire for more space, I kicked him out of the womb.

They have both gone off to college now, Adam yesterday and Aaron today in the early morning.

The house is unnervingly, disturbingly, too bloody quiet without them. 

Aaron, Adam and I shared six years of childhood together before our youngest sister Julianna was born. Julianna increased our sibling shenanigans, but now we became the Flores Four, as opposed to the Flores Three. In the six years we shared, we had Jurassic Park (which is where Aaron got his dinosaur preoccupation), Babar King of the Elephants (which is where Aaron and I got our delusions of royalty), The Many Adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh, The Princess Bride (which is where Adam and Aaron got most of their jokes), Bible stories, pretend games and at one point, a bed room. (They had a bunk bed and I had my own.)

I know most girls (well, none of my nearest and dearest friends) don't have the strange situation of being a combined younger sister and twin sister. I possess that singular distinction all on my own. And I know in most cases, most girls are not so tightly entwined as I am with my brothers. I know their moods like I know my own, they know my temper and preferences better than some of my own dearest girlfriends. I think it would be no stretch to say, that before I understood how wonderful having female friends could be, my brothers were my best friends.

They taught me about video games (though they both knew I didn't care), the names of dinosaurs (though I mispronounced them most of the time), and Monty Python sketches. They showed me how guys think and how they react and, yes, what mistakes not to make when it comes to matters of the heart. They kept my secrets and I kept theirs and we shared most of them together. Adam taught me how to laugh and patiently helped me through my math homework. Aaron taught me how to dream and write. Adam willingly played chauffeur for my outings to the library (though he can't stand them) and when we were driving together, he'd play his music, loud and scream-y and sometimes (most of the time) near incomprehensible, and explain to me why he liked it, what put it above the rest. Thanks to Adam, I know about Paramore, A Day to Remember, Pierce the Veil, La Dispute, and Thousand Foot Krutch.

They both have patiently endured my Taylor Swift, my hormonal mood swings and my decidedly strange sense of humor. They let me read aloud my favorite books to them, Howl's Moving Castle, Percy Jackson and Sammy Keyes. They have made me laugh, made me cry, broken my heart and mended it again, gave me strength and gave me patience and yelled "PWNED!!!!" when I did succeeded.

No girl in the world has such brothers as I do. No one could be as lucky and as blessed as I am.

Their return can not come fast enough.

Over & Out,

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