Philippians 3:1
I've been missing my brother a lot lately. He truly is one of my best friends, and always has been. He was one of those rare big brothers that actually LIKED his kid sister to hang out with him, and would INVITE me to tag along with his friends. I can remember crying when he left for 1st grade, "Don't go, Toby! Take me, too!". And I cried buckets when he moved away to college. Birmingham seemed a world away from Huntsville at the time. (It's only about 2 hours South)
Later, I moved to Chicago for school, and he lived moved from Birmingham to Los Angeles. Still, we remained close and talked on the phone often. Nine years later, I moved to LA, too, and actually lived with him in his tiny one bedroom apartment over a garage in Hancock Park. It was AWESOME! We had the best time. (Until my now EX husband came out...but that's another story for another day). About 4 years ago, he moved to Lithuania with his wife (That's where she's from) so that she could get her PhD.
They have a daughter, Emilija, who is just 11 months younger than my daughter, Emma. I've seen her once.
I used to hold out hope that they would move back here. Our kids could grow up together. We could be the aunt/uncle that we never had. Sharing in the frustrations of parenting, the joys, the little things...I'm pretty sure they're there for good, and it kills me.
I was looking up the Bible scripture to give one of the Lay Leaders for this Sunday's service, and a small piece of paper fell out of my Bible. It was a note that my brother had left for me on the "Happy Line" at camp one Summer. I was 14, he was 16. My brother wasn't (and isn't) exactly the most Church going guy, and I doubt he could recite more than a few books of the Bible, so I was a bit taken back by his note:
Philippians 3:1. Love, Toby.
In my Bible's translation: I thank the Lord my God everytime I think of you.
I miss you, Toby.
Later, I moved to Chicago for school, and he lived moved from Birmingham to Los Angeles. Still, we remained close and talked on the phone often. Nine years later, I moved to LA, too, and actually lived with him in his tiny one bedroom apartment over a garage in Hancock Park. It was AWESOME! We had the best time. (Until my now EX husband came out...but that's another story for another day). About 4 years ago, he moved to Lithuania with his wife (That's where she's from) so that she could get her PhD.
They have a daughter, Emilija, who is just 11 months younger than my daughter, Emma. I've seen her once.
I used to hold out hope that they would move back here. Our kids could grow up together. We could be the aunt/uncle that we never had. Sharing in the frustrations of parenting, the joys, the little things...I'm pretty sure they're there for good, and it kills me.
I was looking up the Bible scripture to give one of the Lay Leaders for this Sunday's service, and a small piece of paper fell out of my Bible. It was a note that my brother had left for me on the "Happy Line" at camp one Summer. I was 14, he was 16. My brother wasn't (and isn't) exactly the most Church going guy, and I doubt he could recite more than a few books of the Bible, so I was a bit taken back by his note:
Philippians 3:1. Love, Toby.
In my Bible's translation: I thank the Lord my God everytime I think of you.
I miss you, Toby.
posted by Ramblings of a crazed SAHM at 9:59 PM
2 Comments:
Awwwwww..... I'm going to have to remember that verse and surprise someone with it sometime. :)
That was Elaine, by the way -- I'm on Jerry's computer and can't remember my blogger password. LOL!
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