Loving, laughing family - Part I

During a recent visit with our daughter and son-in-law, Elissa made a crack that struck Sean as being a bit disrespectful toward me.  She responded with something to the effect that she was simply pointing fondly to one of my personality traits (quirks, if you prefer), and added something like "that's how we show our love in this family."

Our children have inherited a trait that characterizes my relationship with my two brothers:  teasing in love.  Honestly, I think their kids treat them just as badly as my kids treat me.

On the occasion of my 60th birthday (7 years ago!), my wife assembled our children for a very special celebration.  My brothers could not attend, but they sent words of 'congratulations' by letter.

Here's the letter from Brother Bob:

Dear Don,

I can't believe in just a few days, I'm gonna have a brother who is sixty years old.  I know your birthday isn't supposed to be all about me, but it is. I mean, I'm too young to have a 60-year-old for a brother.  Not that you were ever young. What teenager, for crying out loud, sets his clock radio to "Your morning Mayor, Jim O'Neil," on WLW-AM?  WLW?  Seriously?  In those days?  And how well I remember hearing you climb the stairs after I'd gone to bed; I could always hear you coming because your ankles would pop like a bowl of Rice Krispies.  At least you had a Volkswagen Beetle; that was sorta cool. And you did wear the same style of glasses as Buddy Holly. Which was less cool in 1969 than in 1959, when he died, but whatever.

So you're old enough now to remember when the Dead Sea was only sick.  You're old enough now that when your wife says "Let's go upstairs and make love ," you say, "Honey, you know I can't do both."   You're old enough that a rocking chair is a little too much of a thrill ride for you. You're old enough that every time you suck in your gut, your ankles swell.  You're old enough that adult diapers aren't necessary… just convenient.  You're old enough that it takes a couple tries to get over a speed bump.  You're old enough that you have to catch your breath after walking DOWN a flight of stairs.  You're old enough that you've learned never to take a sleeping pill and laxative at the same time.

Happy birthday, anyway.  I'm glad you're my brother.  And I am grateful that I'll always be younger than you. Considerably younger.  That's small consolation, though, when your kids won't stop harping on the ways they say I'm just like you.  That's crap.

With a mere fifty years worth of love, from me to you, 

Bob