My Brother Jim

One day before Christmas, when I was little, my Grandma came to our house and brought the family piles of gifts to put under the tree. She made the holidays every childs dream. My father didn’t earn much as a carpenter, but she made sure that our gifts nearly reached the height of the tree and spilled way into the living room.
On this day, she gave my little brother Jimmy and I adorable porcelain Santa Claus mugs so we could sip hot chocolate on Christmas eve. I forgot how it happened but I shattered my little red and white mug and started to cry. Without hesitation, my brother handed me his mug and I accepted it gladly. It made me happy and my sadness was forgotten. I didn’t even think of the sacrifice he made to make me feel better. He was there to fight my childhood battles too. I remember when he punched a little brat in the face when she called me a name. All kids stuff.
As an adult, he is still here to help me with my battles. He took me to the hospital for my surgeries and tests. He was here to help me do stuff around the house during the rough chemo months. He was here to give our mother comfort and reassurance when she was dying. He was here to support anyone who needed it.
I am happy to know and love my brother. You would love him too.

About Karen Elaine

Artist, author and teacher.
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