Family, family, family. And mostly Nathan.

I have a rather large family.  And really, I don't.  Four kids and two parents isn't a huge family.  But family dinner in my parents' house includes my little brother's in-laws.  My little brother is Nathan.  Thus the title of this post.  

Nathan just enlisted himself.  Something about wanting to serve his country by being in the Virginia National Guard.  It’s also making it possible for him to attend the college of his choice (Liberty University) without having to pay.  Your tax dollars at work!  So, thanks for paying for him to go to a great college!  

But my real point is this: my “family” is pretty great.  We had a “going away” party for Nathan last Sunday and the whole family came.  I met people at this event.  And it was all family.  Well, one lady is marrying in (Diane), her daughter joined, and then one of my “niece-in-law’s” brought her boyfriend.  But overall, it was my family. 

That Sunday night was pretty intense.  Not only because I had to tell some gazillions of people how I hurt my leg and was on crutches (I didn’t even have a cast at that point), but I had to say goodbye to my little brother after sitting around with my whole family talking about how we love Nathan and will pray for him and worry about him while he’s gone.  We talked about how we were going to make sure that Arielei (his wife) didn’t get too lonely with him gone.  Anyways, as the night progressed, it got more and more emotional for me.  I even teared up a little.  Which really is rather uncommon for me (I have to be pretty upset/sad or really mad).  

Once we were all done sitting around talking to each other, Diane and I adjourned to the living room for a while because she heard that I played piano and Mom and Dad have their baby grand up over there.  I played something in the key of C.  I seldom play anything in particular.  

Now, the piano is where it got intense.  I'm ok at the piano (could totally be way better at it and used to be a ton better than I am now), but that's not really the point.  The point is that Nathan and I grew up goofy.  We were by no means normal and my mom will tell you that we raised ourselves moreso than either of our siblings did.  We homeschooled ourselves in many ways and were responsible much earlier than either of our other siblings.  When we got bored as kids, Nathan and I would adjourn to the living room and play piano together.  Sometimes this consisted in duets and sometimes this consisted in me playing a "spiritual" piece (sometimes singing) while he was a "black preacher" who dramatically, spiritually and impressively spoke the words of the song.  His hands would spazz out a little - one hand pressed against his heart, the other raised to the sky.  He'd roll his eyes back, throw his head back and praise Jesus with his voice.  Seriously, very comical.  It sounds incredibly mockatory and rather sacreligious.  But we were flipping funny.  I swear on my mom's future grave.  It was grand.  

More often than not, we would either end or start these wonderful concerts with a lovely reprise of "The Mission Impossible Theme" as a duet.  I took the lower half of the piano, he took the higher.  We would cover at least eight octaves with pounding power.  I really do mean pounding.  We'd start with both of us rolling octaves covering two octaves with each hands.  Then we'd fill the octaves with more notes and then he'd take the high melody as I reverted to rolling octaves.  Now, this more than likely only sounded (well, sounds) cool to us, but we've always loved playing.


After I finished playing in the key of C, I called for Nathan to come in.  He joined me as I introduced the song with my pounding, rolling octaves.  He joined and we played until we ran out of creative ways to "arrange" the piece.  When we finally got bored of that song, he stood up, laughing with his laugh that will always remind me of my uncle.  When he laughs, his Adam's apple goes up and down and seems to shake side-to-side at the same time.  It's jolly and his eyes light up and he looks so happy (no matter when he laughs).  He said, "Good times," leaned over while pat-rubbing my back, and gave me a kiss on my head.


I almost cry every time Nathan kisses me on the head regardless of why he's kissing me.  I then almost cry every time I think about him kissing me on the head.  And I don't normally cry.