Another Big Brother

A couple days ago, I told you about the oldest of my three older brothers. Now, let me tell you a little about the youngest of my three older brothers.

My niece and brother, high above the zoo.

We're separated in age by almost four years but were close enough in age growing up to have gone to elementary school together for a bit, walking to school together. And close enough to actually play together some. He might not remember -- or might not like to admit -- that he helped me set up a doll house at the top of the stairwell so my "Sunshine Family" could live next to a waterfall.

Me and Mike at our aunt's wedding. I didn't get to be a flower girl, thus the pout.

We were also close enough in age to have fights and arguments, but I must be getting old because I don't remember them ever being that bad. (Not like some of the other fights in our house that involved hammers and broomsticks. But I digress.)

Mike was always the handy one. He built end tables and lamps and other wooden items that are still in use today -- and that didn't look like they were built by a "kid." I wouldn't have admitted then how much I admired his skill.

Today, I admire him for his incredible parenting skills. He has raised my niece and nephew on his own and done a damn fine job, too. They're both smart and well-adjusted kids and somehow tolerate their aunt and her silliness. Their visit last year was the highlight of the summer -- strike that -- it was the highlight of the year.