Yesterday when I checked the mail, I cried. I stood in my kitchen biting my lip, blinking furiously, and remembering–everything. My fingernails methodically undid the flap on the envelope, and slowly I pulled out a wedding invitation. My little brother’s wedding invitation. On his 25th birthday no less. I held the invitation and read every word, and with every word read a new memory came flooding into my mind–snapshots of the last 25 years. I remembered the day he was born, chasing our first chickens across the yard, playing in the creek in Utah, the way his red hair curled when he was small, getting in fights that ended in a punishment of slowdancing in the livingroom, and that time he taught me how to ride a bike because I was more scared than he was. I remembered learning how to drive together, and long talks about who we had crushes on that day.
He’s a man now; no longer the playmate of my childhood or my teenage confidant, and I know there will be many more memories to make together. His fiance is a perfect match to him and together they are beginning their story this June. Someday, they’ll look back at that same wedding invitation and relive years of memories; tears, fears faced, love learned, and adventures followed. They’ll stand in their kitchen and finger the worn papers as they remember–everything.
Happy Birthday Coloray!