Looking up to my younger brother: And not only because he is taller than me!
Anyone who knows me can surmise that in a literal sense I look up to just about every person above the age of 12 or so! I had a good friend in high school who was a pitcher on the baseball team with a cannon for an arm. I think I stole the line from a movie I once saw, but I remember telling him this all the time: “You know Danny, when you were a baby in your crib, God blessed you with a lightning bolt for a right arm!” To which I would add that on the other hand, “God blessed me with the ability to make others feel tall one interaction at a time.” Of course, I never shy away from an opportunity to use self-deprecating humor to grab a laugh, but I really do spend a lot of time looking up!
In this post, however, I’m not talking about looking up to someone who’s taller than me, but rather noticing respectable traits in another worthy of emulating. As long as I can remember my 4 and half year younger brother, Andy, has been one of my best friends. I remember being a little annoyed back in the day that he wanted to do everything that my friends and I did, not to mention that all the girls thought he was so “cute”. Regardless though, knowing I’d always have someone to talk to at the end of each day who there was no need to finesse any conversation with, a sounding board to bounce any idea, concern, or worry off of was truly invaluable. As we got older and I eventually went away to school, fortunately we stayed close; never complaining as we alternated recounting every stroke of our competitive rounds of golf to each other on evening phone calls!
Little did I know that our bond would be strengthened by each of us sustaining life-altering neurological injuries. First, Andy became a paraplegic after a balcony fall in April of 2005, then less than 15 months later I acquired a brain injury after a car crash on July 4th, 2006. We both began our rehabilitations at Boston’s Spaulding Hospital in what I can only imagine felt like a horrible dream for our family. While our injuries are quite different with varied long term ramifications, the one thing I think we both had to slowly accept was that our futures were going to look drastically different than we, as active, healthy young men, had envisioned.
It would make for a nice and neat story to be able to say that we’ve both made phenomenal recoveries that were linear without any major setbacks. While it isn’t my place to speak for in detail for Andy, I can say we’ve both had some challenging periods. With that said, I want to recount a night recently where I was filled with pride and absolutely blown away by my brother.
I have to admit, it made me feel kind of old to be driving to go watch my younger brother’s hockey game, not to watch him play a game, rather coach a team of high schoolers! After getting a graduate degree and beginning a career in education, Andy ultimately ended up teaching and coaching both baseball and hockey at Beverly HS (MA). I think it would be pretty cool to see a younger sibling coach a high school sport regardless of the circumstances, but after watching Andy work so hard in his recovery and build a life in which he impacts others really is inspiring!
Seeing that this post opened with my referencing my short stature, I have to book-end it with one of my favorite Andy stories from sometime shortly after I sustained a TBI… After a long day of PT, OT, Speech, and Aquatic Therapy I returned to my parents house where both my brother and I were living at the time. I remember being frustrated and exhausted, which concerned my Mom who though it would be good if Andy gave me a little pep talk. As I lay in my bed exhausted I heard, “Chip, are you sleeping?”
I couldn’t believe it when I saw Andy standing in my doorway with a walker. All I could say was ”Oh my God dude, that’s unbelievable! I didn’t know you could stand up…”
I got to my feet after Andy told me to “Get up and give him a hug,” only to see a puzzled look on Andy’s face as I rose. Then as if to assure me that his injury didn’t affect his comedic timing or my TBI afforded me any babying, Andy replied, “Oh my God, I never knew you were so short.” Either a rare side effect of TBI is height loss and I’d shrunk, Andy’s time in his wheelchair had altered his perception, or more likely, seeing an opportunity to bust his older brother’s chops was irresistible; All I can say is at that moment it was good to chuckle. Whether it’s for modeling persistence or encouraging me to keep showing up for life, Andy is someone I really look up to.