Today is my brother's birthday. Here he is, on the left, with his sisters. It's a bit scary how much we all look alike, more so as we age. From left to right: Dana, Debbie, me and Donna.
Some of my very happiest childhood memories involve time spent with Dana. Here are a few; digging worms for his first business, "Water's Worm Works," (he'd wait until I had a whole handful, then tell me, "You have a 'skeeter on your face." I'd then smash my face with my worm-filled hand and have worm guts all over me.) Then there were the hours we spent driving. Dana had an old Mustang, and I vividly remember riding shotgun on the cracked leather seat. He would drive at high speed, sailing over the bumps in the road and taking corners to the inside. It felt like we were going very fast. I remember thinking, on those rides, that I could possibly die at any moment. I didn't like that idea, but I would console myself that if I did die, at least I'd die happy. I was always so happy when Dana spent time with me. And spend time he did... he'd plunk me on the bar of his bicycle and peddle me all over town. He and his friends even took me on vacation with them when they were big guys renting a cabin on a lake and water skiing for hours on end. Of course, he also teased and tormented me endlessly, shoved me in the pool more times than I could count, and gave me charming nick names like "Burr head."
But what is boils down to is that Dana has been my hero since I was a wee little kiddo. And he still is. He is honest, hard working, reliable, dependable. He is a good husband and a wonderful daddy. He influenced my taste in men, and my sweet husband reminds me in many ways of my kind, gentle, smart and talented big brother. Happy birthday, Dana. I am so glad you have ME for a sister! >grin<
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