Day 22

"To the outside world, we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. 

We live outside the touch of time. "

Clara Ortega

24. That's how many years I got to share on this earth with my brother. Talk about grateful. I could write for years and never be able to express how much. I've been putting off writing about him. I guess I've been scared of the emotions it might bring. Scared to be sad. Scared to lose myself in it. But then I remembered what this whole project is about....gratitude. So I decided to write about the joy of knowing him rather than the pain of losing him. 


And for 24 years, I had the most amazing, wonderful, hysterical, smart, inappropriate, frustrating, philosophical, great thinking, gross, careless, secretly caring and thoughtful, did I say smart...I meant brilliant, and spectacular big brother to ever grace the planet. He was truly, truly spectacular and if you knew him, you're nodding your head in agreement right now. He wasn't perfect. There were sides of him that I never knew, that I'll never know. And part of me is grateful for that too. Who he was to me, the sides he shared with me...was perfect...for me. And that is the Brian I am writing about today.


There are two memories I want to share today. Not that I feel the need to limit myself to two...though if I didn't I would write all day...but rather because these two things epitomize our relationship.


1. When I was a little girl, Brian...I called him Bubba...taught me how to play football. He taught me the basics on our living room floor at Plum Lane. We had this orange Nerf football and we would play on our knees. The end of the green couch was one end zone and my Dad's blue LazyBoy was the other. I am certain yelling was involved, some crying, a few injuries, each of us yelling "MAMA!!" at least a billion times....but mostly, there was a whole lot of laughing. Once I graduated from living room floor knee football, we moved to the back yard to throw and catch. One afternoon he told me to go all the way to the other end of the yard...our yard was pretty long and kind of on a slant. I was at the bottom and he went all the way to the top. He said he was going to throw me a Hail Mary (of course, first he had to explain to me what that was). Then he let it fly....I was terrified watching that football fly down toward me. And then....BAM! I look down...and there...somehow wedged between my elbow and my leg was that football. I had caught it. Not so gracefully, but I did. He came running across the yard and I saw the look on his face. It was pride. He was proud of me. I could see it. I was elated. I had never seen it before and I'll never forget it. Its an incredible feeling. To look at someone who you think hung the moon and have them be looking back at you with admiration. I felt so important. To this day, I love football with a passion. Every time I watch a Georgia Bulldog game, I can feel him with me. It keeps us close. 


 I saw that look a few other times in my life...like when he saw me in certain plays that impressed him...though not all of them mind you! And when I moved out to Los Angeles. I remember we were standing outside of Paco's (our favorite Mexican restaurant where we shared so many meals and laughs with our family) the night before I left and he gave me a journal with the most wonderful inscription (which I'll save for me)...and he said "I'm proud of you." To which I replied..."I'm terrified."  "That's why I'm proud of you" he said. You see, my Bubba was not a man of many compliments. In fact, he was rather skilled with insults, though usually for comedic purposes...he often showed he cared in his own special ways...but when he did put those types of thing in to words...they really hit home. I always knew how my brother felt about me. I always knew he loved me. And I am so grateful for that. 


2. After college, I went back home to Georgia for a year to teach acting at Pebblebrook and make money for the big move to LA. During that year, Brian and I had a tradition. Every Thursday night when I got off work, I would go through Mableton, stop at the gym, then grab dinner for the both of us...usually O'Charley's or Burger King (oh yeah, we indulged), and head over to his house. We got together, had dinner....and watched The OC. Yes. That "OC". We loved it. It was our secret guilty pleasure. In fact, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be too happy that I broadcasted our love of the OC to the world, but...whoops! 


I loved Thursday nights. Loved having that special time with him. We usually just ate, joked around, and watched our show...but over that year, sometimes the conversation turned to deeper subjects. We'd talk about faith, love, friendship. We'd tell each other about our lives, give advice...he gave me some really good advice on those nights, words that I'll carry with me. And we laughed. We laughed so much. I am so grateful for that year....he had always been my big brother and I had always been his little sister...but that year, for the first time, we really got to know each other. Grateful, grateful, grateful. I wish we could've done that sooner...but I am glad that it happened at all. 


As I write these words, I am...I am truly overwhelmed with gratitude...but I am also overwhelmed with sadness, and nostalgia...and still a bit of rage. They say you don't know what you have until its gone. Try to. Look around you at the people in your life...look at them with a grateful heart and see them for every wonderful thing that they are. I'm lucky....because I knew. I always knew what an amazing brother I had. 


Day 22: I am grateful for every second of life I shared with Brian Thompson. 


Bubba,


Thank you for teaching me about football
For making me laugh
For driving me crazy
For letting me ride home with you from church all those times
For that one time you were babysitting me and we had that Ghostbusters moment 
For our Christmas night movie tradition...how awesome was The Prestige?!
For that trivia night
For the Montreal story
For the letter when you were in the Navy...I read it every year on my birthday
For inappropriate Christmas Carols
For Thursday nights and the OC
For really listening to me
For Scrubs texts long distance
For the Garth Brooks Box Set...and everything that it meant
For dinner table hijinks
The Carlton dance at my graduation party...and every other time
For every time you yelled at me or got annoyed with me
For all the times you made me feel special, made me feel "cool"
For supporting me and my dreams...I still owe you on those
For coming to see Antigone twice...that one bowled me over
For that long roadtrip call 
For the card in my birthday box, the one you sent just 6 short months before you left
Thank you for staying with me...I can feel it when you're there
Thank you for every sign, every song on the radio, every little hint


Thank you for being you. For everything that you are. I am eternally grateful to you and for you.


I love you, Bubba. Go Dawgs.