I'm devoting this pillowbook entry to one person: my brother. I don't think I've mentioned him, but he has cerebral palsy. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if he didn't have a disability. Would he do sports? Be gross? Be more annoying than he already is? Would I tell him to watch his tongue? Would he be the heartthrob of girls his age? What would he be his strengths? His weaknesses? Would I still rather hang around him than my sister most of the time?

It used to break my heart as a little girl to realize these things about a brother I loved so dearly, that no matter how much I loved him, none of these things would change. I'd still have to feed him, help him get up and down his high chair, wipe his chin, take him to the bathroom. I'd still have to strain to understand what he was saying.

I suppose he has shaped so much of who I am. When I was little, my sister and I would get so mad and angry with the way people stared at him. It was so frustrating and I don't even know how he deals with it, seeing his sisters run and dance and jump and sing and not being able to himself.

Gosh. I haven't dwelled on these things for so long. Even typing this makes me tear up, a little. Gosh, I'm such a sissy. Why can't I just grow up already and accept the facts? Yes, I know I'm probably the only person in my family who dwells on this, besides my grandmother. So why can't I just move on? Accept the truth and start acting my age? But, no. Not so long as he is my brother will I truly accept his limitations.

Gosh, I'm sorry for ruining everyone's day. Go listen to some happy cheery music now. In fact, listen to something cheesy.