TR, like I mentioned before, is nearly 8 years younger than I am and 4 years younger than Buck. I remember well the days each of my brothers were born. TR will always hold an extra special place in my heart. In many ways, I feel more motherly toward him than sisterly. I would beg my mother to let me feed him and change his diaper. My memories of holding him are precious to me.
We never really fought. Not that I recall anyway. He does tell a story about me making him stay in his room while I watched General Hospital when my parents were gone. He claims he was dying of thirst and I wouldn't let him come out and when he told me he was thirsty, I told him to drink his spit. I don't remember that. And, if I did do that, I think the other times I was watching my brothers and tore myself away from my Harlequin romance novels to go rescue him from being tortured by Buck should more than make up for it.
In fact, there were many times I pushed Buck down to the ground and sat on him while digging my knees into his arms just so TR could beat him up. Afterward I would have to hit Buck as hard as I could so that I would have time to jump off of him and run to the bathroom and lock myself in (TR would be locked in the other bathroom). I would be stuck in there for hours because every time I tried to sneak out, Buck would body slam the door or a belt would whip past my face. I even had to hide Harlequin romance novels under the sink just so I would have something to do! Now that, my friends, is a good big sister. I would never defend myself that way from Buck, but I would do it for TR. Yes, I was a great big sister.
TR has stayed with us a couple of times. The first time he was around 20. We were living in CA and there were some people of ill repute in Seattle that were after him. He is 6'10" which makes it impossible for him to blend in anywhere. Mr. Macchiato has known TR since he was 12 and loves him and is always willing to help him. That is something I love very much about my husband.
Anyway, we'd all be watching TV together and TR would just jump up and start singing and dancing for us. We would laugh and laugh. He is hilarious! Some years later he came and stayed with us in MS for awhile and did the same. In fact, when we get to missing him, we jump up and act like him and laugh.
The last time I was with both of my brothers was five and a half years ago when our grandfather died. The kids and I were in Seattle on vacation when we got the news he had lost his battle with cancer. I left the kids with my mother-in-law and flew down to San Diego with my mom, step dad, two aunts, an uncle and Buck. TR drove down from Sacramento in his big ole gold Cadillac. We have a very large extended family so we all stayed in a hotel. I shared a room with one of my aunts and my brothers stayed in the room next door. We could hear them over there arguing and bumping around... wrestling or whatever. Buck is 6'5". My aunt and I sat in our room with our mouths hanging open and, at times, laughing. It was like they reverted back to being kids.
Buck and I went with TR in his big ole gold Cadillac whenever we needed to be somewhere. TR, being 6'10", had the driver's seat back so far that he was actually in the back seat. He's also one of those that likes to lean his seat way back and have his wrist casually over the steering wheel as he smokes. Buck, of course, always nabbed the front seat. Something about his legs being longer than mine. Yeah, whatever. I sat behind Buck. Only there was something wrong with my seat belt so I was a nervous wreck anytime we were in the car. I couldn't switch to another seat because, well, because TR was sitting next to me in the back seat. Or maybe laying is a better description?
Those were some fun rides. TR and Buck are polar opposites. Buck wears designer clothes and is impeccably groomed. TR has tattoos, wears earrings in both ears and sags his britches. I can't tell you how many times I heard Buck say, "Dude, why you gotta be like that?"
After the funeral, we all convened back at Grandma and Grandpa's house. My Grandpa built that house with his own two hands after serving in the Navy during WWII. They lived on that property from the time my mom was 6 years old. It was the only place that was constant for me while growing up as an army brat. The only place that has ever truly felt like home.There was a lot of reminiscing that day. A lot of tears and a lot of laughter.
My retarded aunt, Marilyn, provided much entertainment as she tried to goose everyone within reach. My step dad took to sliding along the wall in the hall with his hands covering his front whenever she was near.
Much of the time I sat in my grandpa's favorite chair and just listened. At one point, I did join in and tried to get TR to dance for us. He wouldn't do it so I drifted back into my own thoughts as I slowly rocked in Grandpa's chair. My Grandpa had put a big picture window in that room for my Grandma and it looked out over the front of the property. There are some large trees there now and as I was rocking, listening and watching, TR stepped out from behind a tree, locked eyes with me and danced. All I could do was open and close my mouth and point out of the window. Just as everyone turned around, he slipped back behind the tree without a trace. Oh, was he proud of himself! And, oh did he make me laugh.