My brother and I are
sixteen months apart. When we were younger it had seemed as if we had live in
the middle of nowhere, so we were more then siblings we were playmates, best
friends. My brother, with the exception of my mother, was the person who knew me
best and that is why whenever I was upset he would go get my baby doll.
I can not remember
why my brother decided that tears meant that I needed my doll. I don’t remember
if one time my mother suggested it to him so then he always did it or if I
asked him or if it was his own idea. (Maybe I should ask…) But I do know that
as children whenever I was upset my brother would bring me my baby doll.
That action, conforted me more then hugs, kisses, words, or even a cookie ever did.
