Been Gone Too Long

There are five of us. I’m the oldest. My youngest brother was the first one married. (We always threatened my grandbaby hungry parents with that fate of waiting. I just don’t think they believed us.) Baby brother was 21 when he got married. I had just turned 30 and was dating an amazing man. Fast forward four and a half years. The twins had weddings two weeks apart the summer they turned 32. Said amazing man got married that same summer – to someone else. A few months later I crossed the 35 mile mark.

And then there were two.

The middle of my three brothers reaches 30 in a couple of months. I just turned 37 last week. We’ve spent a lot of time together this year. We tripped around Europe for a few days this Spring. (Hmmm…flaming goat cheese in Athens. Good times.) Shortly after that he moved back to Utah after working in Australia for a couple of years. He’s been crashing at my house since then while looking for a place of his own. He bought a Riverwoods townhouse last Friday.

It’s been good getting to know him better. I left for school when he was only 10. My brother the 10 year- old: funny kid, a little weird as only little brothers can be. My brother the almost 30 year-old: he’s a pretty incredible man, intelligent, motivated, charming, funny as hell. But, I’m super excited that he’s getting his own place because last night I came home and found him on my couch with a girl. Not that I’m not cheering for him and his hook-up. Yay! But, really? I should be the one getting action on MY couch. And that hasn’t happened in WAY too long.

I think it’s time for me to get back in the game (ah, but is it a game?) of love.