A couple weeks ago, as I was looking through old documents on my computer, I came across a story I had written about my brother a year after he passed on. I still don’t remember writing it. I must have remembered this memory and written it down so that I wouldn’t forget it. Well, I’m thanking Lauren from 7 years ago. It was like a small gift from my brother to come across this sweet memory of him.

My brother’s full name was Adam Sturgis Kelly. Our family always called him “Sturg” or “Sturgie.” Today is his birthday, and if he were still here, he would have been 42. In honor of this, I’m sharing the story I wrote 7 years ago. The story took place when I was in high school. My parents were taking an anniversary trip to California, and I took care of him for the week they were gone. I’m glad I did, because it allowed me to have an extended period of time with him all to myself.

Enjoy!

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Although I knew it was a chilly day out, it seemed like a walk was just the thing we both needed. Sturg had been giggling mischievously and I didn’t want him to act on whatever brilliant idea he was cooking up in his head.

I poked my head into the living room. “Hey Sturg, would you like to go for a walk?”

He dissolved into giggles as he bent the top half of his body onto his legs which were resting in the shape of a diamond up on the couch. He’s the only person I know who can touch both feet to his chest at the same time.

I was slightly annoyed that he was likely still scheming, and probably something that involved pushing my buttons, but I just smiled and said, “Is that a yes?”

Sturg whipped his head up at me, his fierce green eyes twinkling from his spot on the couch, as he whispered, “Ta…ta!” He let the noise weigh his head back which made him look like he was telling a sarcastic joke.

“Okay, Buster Brown. I’ll go get your shoes.” I ruffled his soft, straight hair.

After wrestling Sturg into socks, shoes, mittens, and a down coat, and throwing on my own coat and scarf, we headed out into the cold, winter air.

I closed the garage door behind us using the code, grabbed his little mittened hand, and as the cold temperature suddenly became more real, I decided this would likely be a short walk. Nonetheless, it felt good to be out in the fresh air together.

It was sort of quiet. All we could hear were the sounds of the wind in the brown trees above us and our feet hitting the pavement below us – though Sturg’s feet were much louder than mine.

Our pace was slow and steady, which was appropriate since that’s how Sturg approached everything. Well, maybe not when there were French fries in front of him, but almost everything else.

We hit the curve of the drive, and I was amazed at how fast we had gotten to the middle of our long street. I wondered if Sturg wanted to go venture farther than our road.

As we got close to the stop sign, Sturg seemed to read my mind. Sturg whipped my whole body in the opposite direction in one swift motion. It surprised me so much, I couldn’t help but giggle. Sturg giggled at my giggle.

The golden sun set fast behind us making the branches of the trees above stretch before us like long, black fingers on the street in front of us.

As we hit the bend of the street faster than we did on the way out, I could feel Sturg’s excitement in the whipping wind that pushed us along. I thought about how sweet and small he was and how his small, mittened hand fit inside mine so nicely.

I took a beat and wondered how he was thinking about that moment. I knew he was happy, but what was he thinking about? Was he still scheming against me, or had he forgotten about it now that I was giving him my full attention?

I wondered if he knew how much I was enjoying his company and if he loved mine just as much. I told myself, “of course he does.” I knew he wouldn’t let me hold his hand if he weren’t loving his time spent with me.

I felt him giggling again – this time he was giggling with glee at the excitement of the wind that was whipping our hair around. You could see it more distinctly in my long hair, but I knew he could feel it in his sweet, boyish haircut.

As I turned to look at him again, I felt a big burst in my chest from seeing the glee on his face and it let me know just how much I love this sweet brother of mine. As we rolled back toward the house slightly faster to get out of the cold, I let the moment take over.