Life At the Top

This post is a tribute to my brother, whom I love.

Gone, but not forgotten.

            Have you ever lived in an attic? I did. I used to live near Spokane, Washington, in a little town named Opportunity. I thought that was appropriate, since it was when I first moved out on my own, feelin' the unbridled power that First-Adulthood can bring to those who've never felt the responsibility of supporting themselves.

            There I was, earnin' my own way, holdin' down my first full-time job an' preparin' to spend my first night on my own. I had found an apartment, conveniently situated near the center of town an' things were goin' well. Considerin' that I had never even had a room of my own, that first apartment was H-U-G-E. Besides, livin' downtown, above one of the businesses was gonna' make everything so convenient. I thought.

            That is, until it got dark an' I spent my first night alone. That was the same night I thought I was gonna' die in an earthquake; after movin' from the Great Quake Capital of America, California. But that's another story.

            After survivin' my night of many firsts, life settled into a certain pattern; rise early, catch the bus to Spokane to go to work, come home exhausted an' struggle to pay all the bills when I got my paycheck. Perhaps you've heard of this way of life?  Easy club to join, but they never want a person to drop out.

            Eventually, I realized that I would need to cut corners, but where? I had learned that my $35- per month rent payment was non-negotiable an' I'd been livin' on a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread an' a dozen eggs per week for the last two months, so I couldn't really cut back on my food bill. Since I din't buy clothes or other extras, there weren't a lotta' choices. Finally, I decided that I would hafta' move closer to my job an' save the bus fare.

            About the time I was makin' this very important decision, my older brother an' his wife paid a visit to her family, who lived about thirty miles away. They also visited ME in that first apartment.

            Y'ever notice how big brothers like to take care of their younger siblings? An' thank goodness my brother did. In the first place, because they had a car, they helped me to find a new place, taking alla' my challenges into consideration; no car, proximity to work, the issue of safety an' my limited earning ability. Soon, we found a beautiful old three-story home with the most awesome woodwork you can imagine. Above the third floor was an attic that had been divided into two parts. A stairwell separated the two parts.

            After agreeing to pay $20- a month in rent (yay! That was a savings of $15- each month), I was ready to begin movin' in. Not so, big brother. He took me shopping, using his own money. The first thing we bought was a lock; but not jus' any lock. This was a device that worked like a chain-lock, but could be controlled from the outside with a key.

            Next, he stocked my bookshelf with all kindsa' stuff I could cook in one aluminum popcorn popper. In that small rented room I had no cooking facilities, so the electric popper came in very handy.

            I was finally Brother-Certified to move into my new attic-home. I was so thrilled the day everything was in place. My brother an' his wife returned to California an' I began a new life.

            Maybe someday you'd like to hear how my hands froze to the wall of that same attic-home? That was definitely an unexpected surprise.

            Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya

When Girls Hafta' Be Boys

     When I was very, very small, I somehow came to the conclusion that I had a mission in life; to protect my little brother.  He was three and a half years younger and for some unknown reason, I felt that my whoooooooole purpose in life was to make sure that he survived with as few lumps, bumps and bruises as possible.  I am a very dedicated person.  Once I decide that I have a responsibility, there isn't much that can stop me from fulfilling that responsibility.

     I don't know how my little brother figured out that I felt this way, it might have been my big mouth, but he seemed to find interesting ways to torment me into making sure he was safe at all times and in all places.  Of course since he was human and a boy, there were times when fights and injuries were a natural process of life.  I tried to keep ahead of them, but even I knew that I couldn't protect him all the time.

     Then, there were those other times; you know what I mean... when he would taunt someone just enough to get them to come after him.  That wouldn't have been so bad, but he always ran to me and they almost always followed.

     Now, I kinda' like to think of myself as a peace-loving person.  I've never liked fighting, arguments, disagreements or even unsettling discussions.  I could be perfectly happy if everyone in the world just always got along, ya' know?   But that was not to be; my little brother needed to be protected.

     Such was the case one day when he came running, yelling, "She's gonna' kill me!"  Then, he promptly ran inside and locked the door... with me, outside.  Cute!

     Sure enough, not far behind was a little girl about my age, heck-bent on doing damage to another human being... and I was the only human in sight.  Well, as I said, I felt that my main purpose in life was to protect my little brother.  Seeing so much anger directed at him was enough to ignite the fire in me on his behalf.

     Before I realized what was happening, I found myself at the bottom of a huge oak tree, calling up to the previously angry little girl, "Come down and fight like a man!"

     When it was all over and the girl had promised to go home peacefully in exchange for me not pummeling her, I exacted my own kind of revenge on my little brother.  In retrospect, I've often wondered if my methods for exacting revenge might have been the reason he sicced the dogs on me, so to speak.  As it turned out, that one day was the exception to the rule.  Most of the time, I did not fare so well.  In fact, I generally went away with plenty of evidence to the contrary.  Maybe if I had been kinder to my little brother, he would have been kinder to me.

     Thank goodness we have developed a much healthier and friendly relationship.  I believe it may have a lot to do with the fact that I am still here and telling this story, today.  Remind me to tell you about the day I realized he was gonna' pass me up in size.  Now, that's a story that will throw fear and trembling into the heart of any older sibling.

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya