The first day of school this year coincides with my older brother's birthday. This convergence occurred more times than I'm sure he was ever fully comfortable, but it also afforded him a three-day weekend almost as often to savor his day and the coming of the Fall. He shares this trait with his daughter, who has the same birthday as Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. In my family, birthdays have a tendency to go on for a week or more, when necessary, and a three-day weekend is beneficial in this way.
But not this year. It made me remember when my older brother looked at me with sorrow and explained that First Grade was a lot harder than Kindergarten. He told me about the relative perils of the second and third grades. Later he prepared me for the torment that awaited me in junior high school. He clued me in about which teachers I should look out for in high school, and what I could expect when I finally landed in college.
At the time, I wasn't sure what to make of these lectures. At first, I took them as gospel and used them to fuel my own insecurities. By the time I was twelve, I had a suspicion that maybe he as pulling my leg just a little. When I was a teenager, nobody could tell me anything, so I wasn't going to sit still and listen to my older brother's insights about my education.
Little did I know what a service he was performing. Not so much the lectures, but the experience he had to offer. It wasn't just school. Watching my older brother brave the various challenges the world had to offer, I became more and more convinced that I could rise those same challenges. I had the distinct advantage of watching somebody go first. A lot of my life was made easier by treading on the path that my older brother made before me.
That's why I feel he deserves the extra day, now and then, just to stay fresh. I can use all the help I can get.
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