Pop.

12 years ago, an abundance of change occurred in our family. We lost a valuable member a year earlier and gained many more the following year. One of those members included a man who would make an impact in ways I'd never expected.

On a quiet weekend afternoon, I spent the day with new people who would eventually become family. Dad had been dating someone new for months, but this was the first time I would become acquainted with her relatives. I shyly entered the foyer at Lynda's, unsure of what to expect. It's well known that I have trouble with change, and I'd definitely had a bit of anxiety over the slew of it. I greeted Lynda, then various members of her family, until I came to a towering, booming man with huge hands and silvery hair.

"Is that a good book?" He asked, gesturing to my tiny elf hands. His voice was warm. Maybe he wasn't as scary as I thought.

"So far," I replied quietly, my voice not nearly as audible as his.

"She loves books!" Lynda told him.

Boy did I. I had everything, from children's series books, to fairy tales, to classics. You name it, I had it.

His eyes lit up. "Do you?" he said. "So do I." I smiled. Anyone who was a book lover was a friend of mine.  I walked into the living room, a bit closer to home. "How many books do you have?" I asked, curious.
"Oh, I lost count! I have a whole room of them."
A whole room? I had a whole closet of them, sure, but never an entire room of treasures.

From there, we took off, conversing back and forth so much that Lynda suggested we sit in the dining room, then she got drinks for us. I learned he was a special education teacher at the high school I was attending. (he retired two years before I began going there) He was a fantastic storyteller. I loved listening to his teaching adventures and and I could hear the joy in his voice when he talked about his "kids." I told him what I loved about school and admitted what I didn't. Eventually, as the sun set and our voices became hoarse, I realized I'd forgotten one key question in our conversation.

"What's your name anyway?" I asked him.

He looked at me over his silver rimmed glasses and smiled. "You can call me Pop." I'd had no idea I was talking to Lynda's dad. From that moment on, The booming man with huge hands who loved books became my grandfather. His wife was Nannie.

As I lived out the remainder of my adolescence, Pop became one of my biggest champions. He always made sure I had everything I needed, and stood up for me during the rare moments I wasn't able to. I, along with my brothers, fit right in with his other grandchildren, Danielle, Pat, Betsy and Bobby. Then, two more grandchildren arrived in the family: Jade and Jamie, now beautiful young ladies. Six years ago, he got to meet his first great-grandchild, Dean, followed by Matt, two years later.

On September 19th, Pop left this Earth peacefully, exactly the way he wanted to: With his children and as many grandchildren as he could have by his side. One key thing that I'll always recall about Pop is that he loved his family and being enveloped by that love was all he needed. Yesterday was his memorial service, as well as Nannie and Pop's 63rd wedding anniversary.

 Godspeed Pop. I will always remember your warm smile, your unconditional love, your generous spirit and kind soul. Thank you for treating my brothers and I as your own without the slightest hesitation. Thank you for loving animals as much as I do. Thank you for being my book buddy. Thank you for being the best grandfather I've ever had. You go soar the clouds, and one day, we'll meet you there.

Oh Brother.

I mentioned in this entry that I've been enjoying traveling alone, meeting new people and seeing new places. I've discovered my love for the islands and the west coast. I'd love to see more and travel a lot. I know in the future, New Jersey is probably not where I'll end up staying. I'll admit it, while I'm so comfortable with my friends back at home, sometimes I don't feel like I belong back at home for a lot of reasons. I really don't know where I fit still, but I'm having a great time figuring it out. There's people that I'd miss terribly though, and those people are Brother 1 and Brother 2.

Brother 1 (aka, Kevin, aka simply "Brother"), is my twin and one of my best friends. I can tell Brother anything and everything without feeling self-conscious, or odd about it. I'm only minutes older then Brother, but I do like to tease him to "respect his elders". We've shared birthdays, classes at school and even some friends, all while being our own people. Both of us share a love for movies and other various forms of pop culture. I can tell when Brother is not himself, and he can tell when I'm not myself either.

I credit Brother for introducing me to my love of music. When I was younger, all I wanted to do was read books. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I didn't branch out my interests) When we were about 8 years old, Brother asked for a tape player and cassettes for his birthday. I thought it was an odd gift for him to ask for, but once he started listening to music, he never stopped. When we were in grade school, Brother would take his tape player and blast music in his room, all while talking to me about his day. I wasn't interested in all of the subjects that he discussed, but that didn't matter. I loved talking to Brother. As we talked, sometimes he would interrupt and point out what song was playing, who it was by and even what instruments were in the background. I didn't have any favorite artists that I liked, but I did (most of the time) enjoy what he listened to.

When we were 13, he graduated from his now worn tape player to a CD player with big speakers. I liked that CD player. It lasted FOREVER. By this point, I enjoyed songs. I still wasn't sure what music I liked on my own, but I was getting there. It was around this age that Brother began creating his own music. He was learning guitar and bass and he knew how to sing. I don't believe he thought much of it, but he was very talented. We hung out with our own groups of friends by this point. There were many ups and downs throughout our lives. My health deteriorated greatly in my young teens, and although I don't remember much on how it felt, I remember being in a lot of pain. Kevin brought a great comfort to me, because the routine was always consistent. I wasn't always in school. I didn't always see our friends. I was in and out of X Ray offices and had too many doctors and hospital visits. But at the end of the day, there was always music.

In adulthood, the setting changed and of course we're no longer school aged children. But once or twice a week, I went to Kevin's for dinner. He now plays his Ipod, and I show him my own favorites. Thanks to Brother, I have a very electric taste of my own. Without his help, I don't think I would have ever come across my love for folk music and acoustic guitars. The artists I listen to, everything from Bob Dylan, the Everly Brothers, Feist, Schuyler Fisk....that's all due to him. He's now amazing at guitar, (owns about 8 of them I believe).

Brother always looks out for me too. Sometimes I think he worries about me, although I don't think he'll admit it. I pretend I don't notice him peeking out his front window, making sure I get to my car okay if I leave at night. I know it must have not been easy when I announced I was going to Hawaii, because it's awfully hard (if not impossible), to look out for me from 6,000 miles away. Still, Brother always encourages me, no matter what kind of spot I might be in. He believes I can do anything, even when I don't believe it. He also calls out my BS so to speak, and I do to him as well. I can say things to him that no one else can say and he won't get mad. That's Brother.

Brother 2 (aka, Dan) is also amazingly talented. He's free spirited, an artist, and always beats to his own drum. He can make anything into art. He can paint, sculpt, draw and is awesome as photography. I too, love photography, and I owe Brother 2 for my interest in it, but I only wish I could be as good as Dan:

I admire Brother 2 because when he wants to do something, he just does it. He doesn't worry about what people think of him. He doesn't worry if people disagree with his ideas. Dan is Dan. Last year, he and his girlfriend Gen took a 6 week trip all over Europe. I always admired that trip. I think it's one of the reasons I have this blog and made my own travel adventure to Hawaii in the first place.

I would be doing a disservice to this entry if I didn't include another amazing person in our family, and that is Gen:

Gen has been part of our little group for so long that I don't remember when she wasn't. She too, is artistic. She's also a fashion maven, a dancer and a dance teacher. I wasn't able to go to one of the plays she was choreographing, because I was here. One of the best things about Gen is how fun she is. She has an awesome sense of humor and you're guaranteed to have a blast when you hang out with her. I should mention that she is this blog's #1 fan. Really. She said so.

And so, while it's been hard to be away from them, I do feel lucky that I'm surrounded by them. I feel lucky to have siblings in my lives. Sometimes I don't feel as smart, as talented, or mature as they are. (Most of the time, I feel like the younger sibling, rather then the other way around) But Brothers 1 and 2 accept me as I am, flawed and all.

These are my brothers and they are good.

I'm not sure what talents I possess, or what value I bring to people, but I know what these people bring to me. I can only hope I'll continue to be inspired by them and the rest of my family (like Dad and Lynda) as I continue to take baby steps out into this brand new world. I know how proud I am of them.

I hope to make them proud.