I remember the first day I met my new brother. Veteran's Day 1977. Mom and Dad drove him home in our brown Honda Accord. Mom held him in the front seat. (car seats wouldn't become mandatory for a few more years). He was wrapped up in a cotton blanket. And I couldn't wait to unwrap him... he was like the best present ever. I was more than excited.
I had been the youngest of 4 brothers. Being the baby of the family, I was "thumped upon" quite a lot. BUT on this day, November 11, 1977 the tide had turned. I was now the BIG brother. I could do some thumping of my own. At least I could, if I wanted to. But I didn't want to. I was overjoyed. I couldn't wait to play with him. I cherished him.
Perhaps no other calendar date is more emblazoned on my mind. It was on this day I started learning about love. I learned you could love someone you have never met, but somehow already knew. And that you didn't know when you started loving them or how it happened, but it felt good. Like the best decision you had ever made.
I had no way of knowing that first day's lesson would be written on the chalkboard of my heart and would never be erased. Ben was the recipient of my love. He hadn't done anything to earn it and he couldn't do anything to stop it. God's love is like that... only better!
More later.
VAN
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