Serendipity (Ode to my baby brother)
I was such a timid child with a huge afro. Ask mom and she'll regale you with stories of my sudden water-works, never-ending tears and the occasional screams, all of which I will deny should I ever meet any of you in person. Oddly enough, I developed a morbid fascination for thriller and horror movies around the age of 12 and I've learned to appreciate and even anticipate them ever since. Hell, I'm still waiting on a film that will scare me, though I will not go so far as to say I'm impervious to fear, because, let's face it, I'ma always be that timid little boy with the nappy afro. But, I'm digressing, as usual.
I remember one afternoon in late '91, I was coming home from school, to find that mom wasn't home. Knowing that mom was fully aware of what time we got out and what time we got home, I was naturally concerned, despite the presence of my "uncle" (who, by Eritrean standards, could have been anyone from a direct relative to someone that owed my dad a favor). As soon as I saw him, my first thought was that something had happened to mom, especially when he said that mom was in the hospital. With that bit of news, I began my Niagara Falls-like crying, wanting my mother and mourning her loss........prematurely. After they had managed to calm me down, they effectively explained that mom had gone to the hospital to give birth to our baby brother, Tomas.
After I had regained my composure, questions flew out of my mouth, the first being "Who the hell is Tomas? How the hell is he coming from the hospital? Why is he in the hospital? Did something happen that got him sent there? Y'all know that I didn't do it, right?"....and so on.
Several days later, we made the inevitable first introductions. Naturally, he wasn't quite what I had expected. In fact, when I first saw him, he looked scrawny, defenseless and had a big head......now that I think of it, not much has changed (its all jokes, folks). Sure, he grew up a little bit to be cute and adorable and all that, but seriously, he wasn't always that cute and adorable......ok, maybe he was, but it wasn't always fun to hang with him when he was a baby......well, most of the time it was, sure.......I mean.......he was just so cute and adorable
I took an instant dislike. And things didn't immediately get better over the years. He was annoying, nasty, selfish, unpredictable, destructive and what not. I had to do everything for him, since little sister was too young at the time and big brother was.....not exactly big brother. And I won't lie, I wasn't the best brother in the world either. By the age of 8, he knew more about physical pain and inflicting it than most kids his age (but then again, we were, and still are, avid fans of the WWE, so really....can you blame us?) and he knew how to take it and give it. But then, we had our own turning point.
When I hit 16, I had to go to "summer camp", which anyone from Eritrea would know what I'm talking about. Camp was not the best experience in the world and it was not something I think fondly of. But, before my return, I managed to call home and when I talked to "tommy", the first thing he told me was "You don't have to make sandwiches for me anymore....I can do them myself". Before leaving for camp, that was a chore that I found more annoying than big brother's attempts at "macking", which from afar seemed like a demented Hannibal Lecture impersonation (seriously dude.....be cute, not creepy). But, at that moment, knowing how much I had missed him, I would've made him 100.
Upon my return, our relationship just went in the opposite direction. He became like my best friend, my confidant, my baby brother. Hell, I helped to raise him into the fine young man he is today. So, I'd like to believe that I had some influence in how he turned out.
Watching him grow has been quite surprising. Naturally, I'm aware of the process of growth and puberty, but it never ceases to amaze me how this young man was one a little thing I used to hold in my arms. The changes have been almost surreal. Case in point, one morning when he was 15, he came to the kitchen for breakfast, opened his mouth and scared the hell outta us with his "newly matured" deep voice. I literally grabbed a pan and was ready to rumble, thinking somebody had broken in and was about to rob us, which led to an entirely unforeseen set of events that I won't even begin to talk about. But, he's taken it in stride.
And he's been a true member of the family. No, not just in the familial sense of the term, and not in the conventional, Eritrean sense that would've made our parents proud (sorry, mom and dad.....but we all know we'll never be that kinda family), but in the sense of being one of us. Underneath the mature image, he is a true wise ass, with a ready wit and the ability to zero in on your most inconsequential flaws and make them seem like mountains. Hell, I still won't let him look at me directly, for fear that he'll find something else to poke fun about. But, the jokes on him, with his square jaw, making him look like a black Johnny Bravo. I mean, seriously, does no one see the resemblance!!??
But, knowing him, he'd just deflect with some comment that would disarm me like Jackie Chan in one of his movies. And knowing him, I wouldn't mind. I always tell people that Tommy is the kinda guy that could insult you, but in a way that would make you love him for it. At first, I thought it was some cheeky little mind game he always played with folks. But now, I see it for what it is. He's a guy that truly does care for people. He picks on whatever flaw he sees because deep down, he doesn't see it. He looks past it, beyond it. Lord knows how many times he's seen through my own bullshit. So yeah, maybe in the course of spending 20.plus years trying to teach him someone, maybe the student has taught the master (knowing full well that the student and the entire family is probably laughing their asses off by this admission......sometimes, my family really sucks).
So now, on his 21st birthday, I just wanna say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOMAS!!!! I wish I could be there, kid, but we both know how it is.You have truly been a great big piece of serendipity. Out of all of us, you're the best of the bunch. And we know you're gonna do something big one day. And I'll be there with a sandwich waiting for ya.
One love, baby brother. And Happy birthday.
I remember one afternoon in late '91, I was coming home from school, to find that mom wasn't home. Knowing that mom was fully aware of what time we got out and what time we got home, I was naturally concerned, despite the presence of my "uncle" (who, by Eritrean standards, could have been anyone from a direct relative to someone that owed my dad a favor). As soon as I saw him, my first thought was that something had happened to mom, especially when he said that mom was in the hospital. With that bit of news, I began my Niagara Falls-like crying, wanting my mother and mourning her loss........prematurely. After they had managed to calm me down, they effectively explained that mom had gone to the hospital to give birth to our baby brother, Tomas.
After I had regained my composure, questions flew out of my mouth, the first being "Who the hell is Tomas? How the hell is he coming from the hospital? Why is he in the hospital? Did something happen that got him sent there? Y'all know that I didn't do it, right?"....and so on.
Several days later, we made the inevitable first introductions. Naturally, he wasn't quite what I had expected. In fact, when I first saw him, he looked scrawny, defenseless and had a big head......now that I think of it, not much has changed (its all jokes, folks). Sure, he grew up a little bit to be cute and adorable and all that, but seriously, he wasn't always that cute and adorable......ok, maybe he was, but it wasn't always fun to hang with him when he was a baby......well, most of the time it was, sure.......I mean.......he was just so cute and adorable
I took an instant dislike. And things didn't immediately get better over the years. He was annoying, nasty, selfish, unpredictable, destructive and what not. I had to do everything for him, since little sister was too young at the time and big brother was.....not exactly big brother. And I won't lie, I wasn't the best brother in the world either. By the age of 8, he knew more about physical pain and inflicting it than most kids his age (but then again, we were, and still are, avid fans of the WWE, so really....can you blame us?) and he knew how to take it and give it. But then, we had our own turning point.
When I hit 16, I had to go to "summer camp", which anyone from Eritrea would know what I'm talking about. Camp was not the best experience in the world and it was not something I think fondly of. But, before my return, I managed to call home and when I talked to "tommy", the first thing he told me was "You don't have to make sandwiches for me anymore....I can do them myself". Before leaving for camp, that was a chore that I found more annoying than big brother's attempts at "macking", which from afar seemed like a demented Hannibal Lecture impersonation (seriously dude.....be cute, not creepy). But, at that moment, knowing how much I had missed him, I would've made him 100.
Upon my return, our relationship just went in the opposite direction. He became like my best friend, my confidant, my baby brother. Hell, I helped to raise him into the fine young man he is today. So, I'd like to believe that I had some influence in how he turned out.
Watching him grow has been quite surprising. Naturally, I'm aware of the process of growth and puberty, but it never ceases to amaze me how this young man was one a little thing I used to hold in my arms. The changes have been almost surreal. Case in point, one morning when he was 15, he came to the kitchen for breakfast, opened his mouth and scared the hell outta us with his "newly matured" deep voice. I literally grabbed a pan and was ready to rumble, thinking somebody had broken in and was about to rob us, which led to an entirely unforeseen set of events that I won't even begin to talk about. But, he's taken it in stride.
And he's been a true member of the family. No, not just in the familial sense of the term, and not in the conventional, Eritrean sense that would've made our parents proud (sorry, mom and dad.....but we all know we'll never be that kinda family), but in the sense of being one of us. Underneath the mature image, he is a true wise ass, with a ready wit and the ability to zero in on your most inconsequential flaws and make them seem like mountains. Hell, I still won't let him look at me directly, for fear that he'll find something else to poke fun about. But, the jokes on him, with his square jaw, making him look like a black Johnny Bravo. I mean, seriously, does no one see the resemblance!!??
But, knowing him, he'd just deflect with some comment that would disarm me like Jackie Chan in one of his movies. And knowing him, I wouldn't mind. I always tell people that Tommy is the kinda guy that could insult you, but in a way that would make you love him for it. At first, I thought it was some cheeky little mind game he always played with folks. But now, I see it for what it is. He's a guy that truly does care for people. He picks on whatever flaw he sees because deep down, he doesn't see it. He looks past it, beyond it. Lord knows how many times he's seen through my own bullshit. So yeah, maybe in the course of spending 20.plus years trying to teach him someone, maybe the student has taught the master (knowing full well that the student and the entire family is probably laughing their asses off by this admission......sometimes, my family really sucks).
So now, on his 21st birthday, I just wanna say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOMAS!!!! I wish I could be there, kid, but we both know how it is.You have truly been a great big piece of serendipity. Out of all of us, you're the best of the bunch. And we know you're gonna do something big one day. And I'll be there with a sandwich waiting for ya.
One love, baby brother. And Happy birthday.
!!!Happy Birthday Tommy!!!
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