My Brother, My Friend...

My brother was born when I was two and a half years old. I may not remember what you told me yesterday, but I remember the day my mother and father brought him home from the hospital.

My mother left me with my three aunts and grandmother when she went to give birth. It was a lousy day in February and my uncle was afraid to drive her because of snow and ice, so she had to call a car service. My aunts took care of me for the couple of days she was away. The day she walked through the door, she was holding my brother in her arms. She took one look at me and put him down on the couch. As she came to give me a hug she said, “What the hell did they do to you?”  From what I could gather, she didn’t like the way they had my hair or how I was dressed. My mother always had my hair brushed so every strand was in place and I was clean and nicely dressed. I guess all of their care didn’t measure up to her standards. I didn’t care about any of that, I was just glad to have my mother back. Those couple of days seemed like an eternity to me.

The next weeks and months I watched my mother as she did all the necessary baby things. She washed diapers, sterile the bottles in a huge pot and then filled them with formula. What ever she did, I was right by her side. My brother was cute. Sometimes he would laugh in his sleep, and that kind of scared me. I enjoyed having a baby brother, at least for a while.

My brother soon grew into an annoying toddler. He never wanted to play with his own toys. Instead he would constantly try to take my dolls and doll carriage away from me. He would cry and I would complain to my mother, but it was always the same, “let him play with it, he is just a baby.” Whenever we got in trouble, it was always me on the hot seat because I was “older and should know better.”  However, he wasn’t so bad after he outgrew this stage.

Before long, I had to go to school. It was a big change in my life. I really didn’t like the idea and I would cry for my mother to take me back home. My mother, who is no stranger to lying, thought up a clever ruse. She told me my brother was sick and she had to go home and call the doctor. What five year old can argue with that? So off she went and there I stayed. This went on for a couple of days, maybe even a week. I don’t know how I fell for it, because I was a very smart kid at 5. I think I just blindly believed everything my mother told me. I did ask her, “Isn’t he ever going to get better?” But, eventually, my mother dropped her story and I adjusted to going to school.

My brother and I played together more than most brothers and sisters might have throughout their childhoods. We were raised in a four room, railroad apartment until we were in our twenties. We played in front of the house and in the backyard. We went to the same schools and had many of the same teachers. We’ve shared just about everything in life. We can tell each other anything. The one thing my mother always tried to instill in us is that we should always love and care for each other. She would make that speech every now and then. She told us one day she and my father wouldn’t be around and we would only have each other. We understood what she was trying to say and her prayers were answered. My brother and I love each other unconditionally and we have always been there for each other no matter what. I know he loves my girls as though they were his own. He has always been good to me and my family and he visits us nearly every Sunday afternoon to tell us a lively story or two about the pet peeves in his life.

I have tried to instill the same thing in my own girls. They are also very close. They always have been, growing up together almost the same way my brother and I did. They have gone their separate ways since hitting their twenties. College, jobs, their social lives have caused them to spend less time together, as happened with my brother and I. But they make an effort to spend time together, to share similar interests and I love it when I hear them laughing together. I know there isn’t anything they wouldn’t do for each other. I never had to give them my mother’s speech. I know nothing will come between them, just like my brother and I. And the certainty of knowing that gives me great peace of mind.

My Brother The Clean Freak!

My brother Vin has his own three bedroom condo. Two bedrooms are in the finished basement portion and never get used. He lives alone. Every week he tells me about all the cleaning he has to do. He cleans during the week and on the weekend too. I wonder why? He lives alone, and whatever he uses always goes back to it’s original place. If you went there you wouldn’t know anyone lived there, it’s spotless. Frankly, I think the dust won’t even visit him any more because they know his reputation and they would have a very short life span.

One day we were visiting with some relatives from out of state. In the course of the visit, a tiny sliver of paper fell on the carpet. He hadn’t noticed it, so I decided to test him. I waited till he made contact with the tiny piece of paper and then timed how long he would be able to avoid picking it up off the floor before it killed him. It took 46 seconds. I busted out laughing. I knew if he saw it and didn’t get rid of it, it would eat him up inside.

He puts all the glasses and dishes in his dish washer every month. Even though they are never used and everything is still nice and clean. He has made it part of his routine and nothing I can say will convince him it’s overkill. 

Once I went into his bathroom to check on the over the door hooks I bought for him. There in the soap dish, under the soap, is some neatly folded up plastic wrap for the soap to sit on. The soap dish can’t even get dirty if it wanted to.  I ask him is this really necessary? He answers, yes it is. I know better than to argue or reason with him. I move on.

Vin has a couple of area rugs and a couple of throw rugs. The theme running through the condo is palm trees. He loves Key West. So I got him a couple of nice mats to place at the front door, where you have to take off your shoes upon entering. I bought two mats so he would have a replacement mat if the other one should manage to get dirty. Well the first mat never got dirty, but he wore it out by vacuuming it to death. It was a good thing I got him the spare. If that isn’t over cleaning I don’t know what is?

His dining room table has three covers over it. Yeah three. Let me explain. The first one is an inexpensive dollar store table cloth with a soft backing, to protect the table. The second one, that goes over that, is a very nice table cloth used for entertaining or show. The third one is a clear plastic table cloth so the nice one doesn’t get dirty at all, not even with dust. And on top of all that are individual place mats, bamboo and with green detailing to match the theme of the condo. 

He has a set routine for all his cleaning and laundry. If he has to skip a night because something comes up, he calls to tell me he has to postpone such and such to the next night. He recently came back from vacation and told me he had a lot of cleaning to do! I knew he cleaned everything before he left and asked why. He said there would be dust. Then he came over and said he really didn’t have to clean because there was no dust. As hard as he looked he couldn’t find any to clean. So he stopped by to visit me instead to tell me about it.  

There are probably a few dozen details I forgot to mention. If he ever finds and reads the blog maybe he can insert them in the comments. Maybe I should do a video of his condo and walk you through it?  We’ll see!

Sunday Afternoons with Vin...

My brother Vincent is a piece of work. I can say that, I’m his big sister, and it’s true. His is a character, just like my mother is, and sometimes he is worse. He has all kinds of quirks and mannerisms that are so distinctive. When he talks, with his hands flying and his face animated, you can’t help but laugh. He is Italian, so that is part of the reason for all the gestures. But, my brother is passionate about everything and I mean everything. He either loves it or hates it and he conveys that in his stories about life, family, and the many businesses he deals with for goods and services. If you think I am good at writing letters of complaint, you aint’ seen nothing when it comes to him. He will have the CEO calling him and eating out of his hand, if he isn’t happy about something. He will get all kinds of discounts to shut him up too.

For example, he came over this Sunday for dinner, to celebrate the New Year with us. He comes over every Sunday, either for dinner or coffee and cake, and never fails to have a story for us.  This week it was about his cell phone and Verizon’s data plan. Apparently, he lost the ability to connect to the internet for a few minutes and made several calls to Verizon. They had him go through the steps of checking the phone battery etc. and then, before they could move on to the next step, they disconnected him. Needless to say he was pissed. He called back and the next customer service person disconnected him before they even got started. So he calls back and demands to speak to a manager. They tell him everyone wants to speak to a manager. He uses his expertise, because he has done this so many times before, and gets a manager. The manger says they will give him $5 of credit for the outage. My brother says, “Five dollars? For my inconvenience and being disconnected twice?” The man says the disconnects were an accident. My brother informs him that the first disconnect was an accident, the second one was on purpose. The manager says he will give him one month’s credit on the phone bill. That’s a lot for a few minutes of outage, but not for Vin. Nope, he wasn’t having it!  Again he tells the manager he doesn’t think one month is sufficient for his aggravation.  Besides that, he informs him that he has been a loyal customer for a long time.  He was a customer when his phone only had 90 minutes per month!  Yes, 90 minutes per month…did I mention my brother was frugal?  Back then he only used the phone for emergencies or in case my mother needed him.  The manager, tired of listening to my brother’s saga, that goes back to the time of Adam and Eve, says he will go talk to his supervisor.  After a brief absence he comes back to the phone and says they will give him 2 months of phone credit! Can you believe it?  He was without internet service for a few minutes and now he gets two months free service.  You should have seen the look of consummate satisfaction on his face at the end of his story. Another victory scored! He was pretty happy with the outcome.

I have lots of similar stories, where my brother shook things up and they all end one better than the next. We come for a long line of complainers, it’s in our blood. I was thinking of starting a video series called, “Sunday Afternoons with Vin” and posting them here on the blog. There is no reason why everyone can’t enjoy his entertainingly hilarious stories.  I’ll see what I can do, but meanwhile I’d like to know if anyone is interested?