My big brother.

Yesterday I asked a group of new friends to tell us one of their favourite childhood memories. And this is the story I told.

My brother and I had a strange relationship growing up. He taught me what music was great, practiced wrestling moves on me and played backyard cricket together. We only went to the same school one year, so there was no protection type moments. But there was this one moment that I always remember with a sense of awe and almost hero status.

We must have been playing cricket, and we had recently installed some giant fences on one side of our yard that were harder to climb. But, of course, a ball was hit over that one so I ran to collect it like normal. But as I got to the summit of the wooden hill I lost my footing and landed on my leg, grazing it somewhat. Pain shot through my body like I had never experienced. So much so that all thought of getting off that fence escaped my brain, and combined with that hopelessness and pain I started crying. I had no idea how i would get down.

Out of nowhere, my giant brother arrived. (probably on a ladder) He gently picked me up off the fence and returned me to the ground. We sat there for a while as he attempted to comfort and calm me down before we returned inside. My brother had rescued me from something I couldn’t rescue myself from.

He probably doesn’t remember it. And i’ve known pain worse then that since, but I’ll always remember how my big brother helped me off a fence and then laughed with me later whilst I limped around the yard because that seemed a good idea at the time cause the pain was soo bad.

https://donteattrash.com/2012/11/27/the-ten-honouring-the-olds/

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