For Younger Siblings Only

This is for younger siblings only.

Younger siblings spend a lifetime looking up. We see the good example set before us and follow it, begrudgingly. Thankful that the path ahead is well traveled, but wanting to blaze our own trail nonetheless. A crossword puzzle half complete is much easier to solve, but much less satisfying. Despite the time spent trailing in our older siblings’ wake, there are experiences we have which they will never know.

For instance, they’ve never stepped into a pair of hand-me-down sneakers and felt the foreign contours of an older brother’s foot on the insole. They haven’t spent weeks on the playground pushing through the (re)break-in period, or endured the cramped hands that can only come from scrubbing clean the yellowed Nike swoosh on the side, in a desperate attempt to make them look new.

Older siblings have never been Player 2. Openly cheering a Mario speed-run of Yoshi’s Island 1, while silently hoping an ill-timed jump into Banzai Bill brings Luigi in off the bench. They don’t know the immense pressure of stepping into the spotlight cold, no reps, to defeat a Koopaling or the slow build of tension when Luigi’s turn lasts just a little too long for Mario’s liking.

They certainly don’t have the acting chops it takes to pretend you actually want to sit on the middle cushion of the couch. Or to appear interested in Cub Scouts for the second time, even though you already went through it once as a tag-a-long, because you were too young to stay home alone.

I mean, has an older brother ever seen life while standing on the back pegs of a bike? Or while sitting on the hump in the back seat of the car? I doubt it. It’s a different perspective when you’re last in line.

Ultimately, to have older siblings is to have your reputation perpetually precede you. A living set of moving goalposts to forever chase. Every shared teacher, coach, or friend focused on your last name first. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I see what my brothers have done for me, and I’m thankful. Thankful for the years spent with all of us cramped in one small bedroom as kids. For the constant competition in everything. For the advice when I ask for it, and the truth when it needs to be heard. For the guidance when I’m stuck, and the support when I’m down. But most of all, for the love. And although they may not see things from my perspective, and I may not see things from theirs, that’s ok. Because older siblings aren’t allowed to read this anyways.

CKaz