I love my brother. And no, I don't mean that in a weird Angelina-kissing-James-Haven-on-the-lips-at-the-Oscars sorta way. I mean that I really do love my brother, and our relationship has done nothing but blossom over the past decade or so.

We've had an interesting relationship down through the years, going all the way back to my arrival on this earth. He was an oh-so-cool almost 13 when I made my unplanned appearance, and I think he was probably more embarrassed by the fact that I was solid evidence that our parents still had sex than he was perturbed by my actual existence. Although a newborn being added to the family certainly put a damper on his fun, he tolerated me. Only when I turned 6 or 7 and showed an aptitude for anything involving a bat and ball did he decide that I was probably a keeper. Athletic prowess raised my worth in my brother's eyes and may explain a little why I value athleticism to this day.

But my brother and I never had a nuts and bolts sorta relationship because of the disparity in our ages. The year he started college was the year I started FIRST GRADE. Our poor mother had kids in school for 30 straight years, and by the time I was reaching my formative years and building relationships, my brother was already out of the house, married, and starting a family of his own. We enjoyed each other's company, but we didn't see each other that often and didn't have that much in common, or so it seemed. When we did spend time around one another, it could sometimes be rocky, due to the fact we are both somewhat stubborn and rather opinionated. (There is a now rather legendary family story of he and I getting into a verbal disagreement out in the yard at my mother's house that reached such a crescendo as to cause one of the neighbors to come outside and see what the ruckus was about. When she saw who it was, she quickly ducked back inside so as to not get hit by any stray verbiage. And in case you're wondering: the argument involved the relative height the lawnmower blade should be set at. I kid you not.)

Fast forward a number of years to about 6 or 8 years ago. Our father had already passed, and our mother's health had been less than stellar, and she was becoming more and more dependent on me, due to the fact that I lived 2 doors away and he lived an hour and a half away. I didn't begrudge this; it was just a fact of convenience and logistics, but it was starting to wear on me a little. My brother has always been extremely giving; all I've ever had to do was tell him I or our mother needed something and it was ours -- no questions asked. But I was becoming more and more drained by the day-to-day demands and I felt he needed to take a slightly more active role, so I called a pow-wow to discuss it. The result? Little more than two months later, he put his gorgeous house on the market and moved 45 minutes closer. He contributes monthly to covering Mom's bills, comes up almost weekly to help do yard work or stuff around her house and has been a huge help to both Mom and me.

But the most important point in all this has been the strengthening and deepening of our relationship. My brother has come to see me as a responsible adult and not just his "little sister" and I've come to appreciate him for the man he is. He is a man who loves his wife and family, loves God, and has raised 2 beautiful sons who are now wonderful young men, with families of their own. He is a loving grandfather who is just a big ol' kid at heart. He loves traveling, sports and music. And it is this latter love that gave us one of the most enjoyable nights ever together.

My brother turned me on to "The Sing-Off" and I quickly became hooked on this a cappella competition that aired over a period of 3 weeks in December. We each had our favorites, but both of us LOVED Street Corner Symphony, 6 local guys (from here in Nashvegas) who finished second in the competition. When my brother found out they were singing at a local club, he bought tickets for he and his wife and for myself as well, and the concert Tuesday night was one of the best shows I've ever been to. There's something about good music that is just soul-stirring, and he gets that. More than once that night, I looked over at my brother and saw such pure joy on his face that it brought tears to my eyes. I love my brother, and it makes my heart happy to know he loves me too, and to know that we are actually a lot alike.