Brothers
By John
We called them 'the twins'. I was probably 4 or 5 before I realized that my twin brothers had real names. I was 5 years younger than my brothers. I admired them....they drove tractors all day....they carried the guns when we went hunting....they were the ones that DAD talked to when we were working, out on the farm. Because of the age difference, I never got very close to my brothers when we were growing up. They had each other....and they had plenty to do....as the primary labor force for our farm. But I watched them. I watched them grow up big and strong. I watched them make my DAD proud with their ability to work and to learn......and to become the young men that he envisioned them to be.
I also watched them go through the inevitable stage of 'growing apart'. It was a tough time for all of us. Farming was hard in those years. The economy was bad. There was a war quietly raging in far-away VietNam.....
The summer after graduating from High School, my brother Ron joined the Navy. He knew he would be drafted.....his preference was to serve with distinction in the Navy. Brother Don agreed....but prefered to work, and to wait....untill the draft notice arrived. Ron mustered in alone. Don quietly and painfully saw him off....and settled in for a lonely time at home...on the farm.
At age 14, I was only a by-standard as this personal drama unfolded. I watched with some confusion.....but never realized the importance of the events of those days. Many months later, the draft notice came....and Don dutifully went off to war, to serve with distinction in the Navy as well.
During his months at home alone on the farm....I saw a different side of my brother Don. I saw him as tender to our Mom....I saw him as a peer...to our Dad....and I saw him as a role model....someone that was to be respected and appreciated as a man. On occasion, I enlisted brother Don to carry me to town for a weekly meeting I had at the church. On those Wednesday nights, Don would stop at the Maid-Rite on Riverfront in Muscatine. He would buy me a sandwich....and we would sit and talk...I am sure we talked about something....but I don't remember what....mostly I remember just being proud...that I had a brother...one who would sit and talk with me like I really existed.
Not long ago, I was on a business trip that took me across the midwest by car. I planned the trip to end up in Muscatine, the night befor my return to GA. A the last minute, I found myself in Muscatine....with no practical way to get to Moline Airport very early the next morning. I called brother Don....and he graciously agreed to meet me at about 4:30 a.m....to get me to my plane on time. As we drove together that morning....I remembered the Wednesday nights .... long ago....when my big brother made me feel like I mattered....and the thought struck me...that being 'brothers' was what mattered...and I was very glad to have one like him.
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