In my experience, at least, fraternity isn't limited to blood. It's a bond that can form anywhere, under the strangest and most unexpected of circumstances; a bond that can withstand any number of troubles. I can name six people who might not be my blood, but who I know would never turn against me, and who I would never turn against.
But I can't help but wonder when it comes to the one man who I can call my brother in blood. If not for the familial relation -- or at least the knowledge of it -- would we be capable, as friends, of being as close as we are today? Would I call him whenever I were in need of support, or would I turn to someone else? Would he have named his firstborn son after me, or perhaps have given the honor to another? Would I have written stories of his friendship and company, or would a different name have struck the page? And would he have chosen me as one of those at his wedding to stand behind him?
I really don't know. I hope that the former, rather than the latter, answers are true, but I can't tell. I've never put much stock in hypotheticals, as you can't judge the outcome without living the circumstances, but this book just struck a chord. It just made me wonder.
Because I love my brother. And I look up to him more than anyone else. Some might think this unwise, as he is a 23-year old UPS driver and father of three, but I beg to differ. That guy busts his ass day-in and day-out to support his family, he shows his wife and children more love than one would believe is possible after an exhausting day at work, and he listens to whatever you have to say. He's more of a man than anyone else I know; he does our family proud.
I don't know what I'd do without him.
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