Did
you ever know that you’re my hero…?
(subtitled – Hey Buck I’m talking bout you)
John
1:5 The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.
I have a little brother. Most of you don’t know this because some of you I know some of you I don’t know and well some of yall know me and just don’t know this. All and all don’t worry about the who, the what, the when and the where. Just know that I have a little brother and he is my Hero.
Totaled
combined if I had to sit down and do the calculations he and I have probably
spent about a week together combined over both our lives. We don’t talk much, we text every now and again,
so I’ve got to admit it may come to a shock to even him that he’s my hero,
although every now and again I call him Superman.
I
remember the first time my dad introduced us it was on the playground near my
Grandma Esther’s (yep the cake baker). I
can’t remember how old I was, but I fell in love from the moment I saw
him. He had a big head and cornrows and
was chubby. I lugged him around
bragging about this cute ball of handsome was my little brother. I didn’t see him again until my father’s funeral,
about 18 years later. Then once at my
older brother’s house for Thanksgiving five years later. We didn’t talk much at either meeting, just
hugged said we loved each other and that we would keep in touch. (I didn’t)
Twelve
years passed before we would lay eyes on each other again. My oldest brother called me almost around
this time last year and said our little brother had been shot. I was headed back to Charlotte at the time. Several thoughts went through my head, I didn’t
know this man my brother what in the world had happened was he in a gang, was
he involved in something horrible. And
even if he was who and the hell would DARE hurt my BABY BROTHER.
I
later learned that it was a 53 year old man who was robbing the store that my
brother managed. If my brother hadn’t
turned as the gun was being discharged he would likely be dead! But he turned!
My
brother was flown to Atlanta, Georgia and his family came together in an
amazing way to support help and love all over him. I drove to Atlanta to see him and this
meeting is where I placed the superman cape on his shoulders and knew that I
had met a hero.
It
was reported that he would not walk again.
He had received nerve damage from the bullet. I knew he had gotten shot towards his back on
the side. He said the bullet hitting his
back hurt, but it was the fire in his legs that was horrible to him. My hero sat before me not bitter not angry
simply reflective of what had occurred to him only weeks before. With no anger in his eyes he talked about
walking again and his plans for the future.
We talked about our dad and he talked to me as if we had talked every
day. He brought back memories of our father
and we laughed and sat in silence at times.
It’s so hard to explain but I knew I was in the room with
greatness. His calm, wise , intelligent,
strong forgiving spirit. was mind blowing to me. The proud lion’s glow he had when he spoke of
his children and how he loved seeing his family come together the way they had
for him. And he called me sister simply
because that’s who I am to him. No anger
about why I wasn’t more involved, where I had been why I never called. He loves me like a sister simple and plain,
because he chooses too.
So
why is this man my hero. He is my hero
because of his character. His character
when he could have shown the worse of himself and who would have blamed him. He continues to act in love kindness and
amazing strength and I even dare say
forgiveness. There are many angry people
in the world that less things have been done to. But my little brother chooses to be a good
man, a kind man, a strong man, a loving man, a role model to his children and
to me.
My
brother can’t fly (I bet he could if he tried), he doesn’t sling spider webs,
or have any cool gadgets. There are many
people in the world who go through the day to day ups and downs, but it’s the ones
that go against the norm, that smile when they want to cry, fight when they
want to quit, stand strong when they want to run, love when they could choose
to hate, give when they ain’t got nothing left.
These people, my brother they are the true super heroes.
No comments:
Post a Comment