What a difference the love of a BROTHER makes!

Without the watchful eye of my brother I'm not sure I would have tolerated my surgery and hospital stay. When coming out of surgery/recovery I was blessed to have my mom (Clara), brother (Jeff), his significant other (Gail), and my good friend (Sue) there to validate I had indeed made it through. The surgery was late in the day and took longer than expected so these valiant troopers spent hours waiting... and waiting. A good many of the days (and nights) post surgery are hazy to me and blend together. I do remember many a morning (or upon my waking) that my brother was in my room, peacefully watching me or just sitting there reading something. I remember many evenings he was the last one there, again, to tuck me in and kiss me good night. When I couldn't talk, he spoke to me or encouraged me with a tender smile. On one of the occasions when I actually was able to carry on a conversation, late at night, we talked about my dad. We reminisced about how ill he had been at the end of his life, and what a good patient he had been during his many illnesses and hospitalizations. I was really trying to be a good patient, modeling myself after the patient I had watched my dad be. I confessed to my brother that I hoped my dad was looking down upon me and hoped he was proud of my efforts.

I am thankful for the gift of a compassionate, giving brother. I LOVE him very much.