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| Buddy and Papaw Last Summer |
My brother and I have been playmates, best friends, always-together friends since he got here. Okay, actually first I hated him a little because I was only a year and a half old and suddenly nobody thought I was that cute anymore with a new baby around.
The little booger grew on me, though. At the time my brother entered my life, I dragged around a battered and beaten “My Buddy” doll, popular with late-80s toddlers. Though my Mom had nicknames in mind for my brother, he instantly became my new “My Buddy.” The real life version!
The name stuck, was shortened to “Buddy,” and here we are today.
We played and hunted and skipped rocks and drank Nana’s Kool-Aid and rode around on Papaw’s tractor and basically lived the life dreams are made of, the one I write about here. That is, until I started kindergarten.
Suddenly, I’m told, I no longer had time for my pesky little brother. I had new friends, cool ones, and we went to school and did big kid stuff while he got left in the dust. I don’t remember this at all. In fact, since the time I actually can remember, I’ve been chasing him down, trying to be friends.
Three years ago, that no-good, pesky little brother of mine joined the Air Force. He hopped on a plane, had a few weeks of training, and made something of himself before we ever got out there to celebrate with him. Currently stationed in Korea, my brother has been missing family functions, get-together, holidays, birthdays, etc. for a few years now.
When I call home to chat with Nana, one of the first questions she asks is, “Have you talked to Buddy lately?”
For Father’s Day last year, Papaw was late to lunch by 45 minutes. Buddy called and he didn’t want to cut him off, so I sat waiting in the parking lot at the restaurant for an hour (after driving an hour to meet him there), fuming.
At Thanksgiving, Sissy makes deviled eggs that are to die for. You’ll never guess who she cites as the one who most enjoys those deviled eggs of hers… Every time we have a large family meal, the presence (or absence) of deviled eggs ensures a mention of my illustrious sibling.
Seeing that it irked me, my lovely family members couldn’t let up about it and so without fail, someone in the family always asks at an opportune moment, “Where’s Buddy?” It’s all (mostly) in good fun now, and we even took a moment to highlight this little Matlock family tradition at our most recent gathering – other little brother’s high school graduation. Can’t you just see the joy?
Oh, by the way, before I forget – Have you talked to Buddy lately?
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