
I wrote my memoir about the memories i've had with my brother growing up. There has only been one person in my life that’s ever given me a black eye; in fact he’s given me two black eyes! Then again on the flip side I’m probably the only person that’s ever taken out one of his front teeth with a steel toed boot. Yes, this person is no other than my one and only, nearest and dearest, family, kin and blood… my younger brother Jon. I think a lot of our spite for each other while growing up came from our parents. Our roles toward our parents were a little reversed. I was more of a daddy’s girl; I liked hanging out with dad on the farm, riding in the tractors and fixing things. My brother on the other hand was more of a momma’s boy; he spent a lot more time with mom inside the house, and helping her. Further more Jon was the baby in the family and mom treated him as such showing favoritism, or at least I defiantly felt she did. It would make me so mad, no matter what happened between us, I was always the one in the wrong.
Mom and dad got divorced in 1998, I was 12 and Jon was 9 years old. I took it a lot harder than Jon did, my dad had a very bad anger problem and in all reality the whole divorce was mostly his fault. Mom, Jon and I moved into a different house, as much as I loved my dad I felt betrayed, abandoned, and angry at him for how much of a jerk he acted to cause us all to have to separate. Even though I was with my mom and brother, favoritism factor constantly made it feel like a two against one deal. This I think was our turning point in Jon’s and my relationship where it became an all out world war III against each other. I look back and I have no idea how my mom dealt with us, hitting, biting, kicking, scratching, pinching, you name it! My mom use to always tell us, “you only have one brother and one sister you two should love and care about each other,” The only thing we cared about was what next despicable action we could do to each other.

As Jon continued into his high school years and I graduated our fighting started to decrease. I had grown more of a bond with my mom and a protective older sister attitude towards my brother, even though he wasn’t having it. My brother was 19 during the fall time of 2007 when he decided to sign up for the Marine Corps, without telling anyone.
When he came home and decided to disclose his kept secret information to my mom and I she burst into uncontrollable tears, all I could think to myself was, “what a selfish, ungrateful little prick to do this to mom”. My mom had made my brother and I her life after the divorce and now he just takes off.
That January at age19 and green behind the ears, Jon took off for
Camp Pendleton in
San Diego California for boot camp. At the end of his 7 week boot camp mom and I flew down to
California to watch graduation, and another time to visit him down in
North Carolina when stationed at
Camp Jejune. Each time I noticed not only physical changes in Jon but also mental.
North Carolina was the last time I seen Jon for almost two years.
I ended up moving out to
Wyoming and Jon got stationed in
Iraq for almost a year. The next time I saw my brother wasn’t until October 2009 when I came home for a visit.
Where a once 19 year old adolescent stood, an intelligent, strong, respectable man had replaced him. I think my moms words of advice, “you only have one brother and one sister you two should love and care about each other.” Finally hit both of us and really took effect during our time of separation.

A lot has changed between Jon and I since our younger years. Instead of being my nemeses he’s now my best friend. When he’s home we do just about everything together, hunting, hang out, and have the same friends together; I look out for him and he looks out for me. In fact just recently I was with him and his girlfriend and she had mentioned how she wished her and brother had as good as a relationship as we do. Jon and I just looked at each other and smiled.