My Not-So-Little, Little Brother

16 years ago Dayna and I waited by the big tires on Paris Elementary playground waiting for my Grandma Connie to come pick us up. From my 8 year old memories, I feel like we waited all day, but still her white Buick with the Jensen Lumber license plates never pulled up. When I got older I realized my families lumber yard didn't actually design their own license plate...

We were so sure my mom was going to go into labor with my little brother, and the plan was that Grandma Connie would come pick us up. So we waited...and waited...and waited. Well, at least in my mind I felt like we waited for days in increments of 15 minutes at recess. I'll be honest, all I can remember is waiting to hear that we were going to make the hour and a half drive over the canyon to the hospital for Theron to be born. I actually can't remember the much anticipated pick up by my grandma or the drive. Obviously the waiting made a much bigger impression on my 8 year old self than the news and drive did. Sorry, bro.

However, I do remember getting to the hospital and finding out that he wasn't actually born yet...what?! This baby thing took waaaay too long for me! Dayna, Holly, my grandma and I sat in a waiting room watching day time TV and flipping through old issues of Highlights. What felt like an eternity later, my sister Natalie walked in, and, in true Natalie-get-crap-done attitude, walked down the hall to find my mom's delivery room. Cracking the door open a bit we could see my tiny, little brother laying on the scale screeching. I should've known then that he would never be the quiet kind.

Now, I actually wasn't very excited for my little brother's grand appearance. In fact, I wasn't very excited for my little brother at all. When I found out my mom was pregnant I locked myself in my bedroom and cried. I cried because I was afraid I wouldn't be my dad's little buddy anymore, but, rest assured, I am still his favorite.

16 years later, that screeching, little creature on the scale is now a very handsome, 6'4" young man. He's incredibly athletic, and I can't tell you how many over-the-door hoops, indoor, outdoor, every imaginable hoop has been in our house. He pounded a ball through the kitchen a hundred times and then some. He bounced a baseball off an exercise trampoline on the rare occasion my dad couldn't sit on a yellow bucket and coach his pitching. Even I stood on the front porch and threw him football passes as he ran across the front yard.

When he was little he tagged along with my dad and I as we did chores. We got pulled over once for not having him in a car seat in the old blue truck. This wouldn't have been a big deal except for the fact that my dad had to have a middle seat belt installed specifically for a car seat because they'd all been taken out earlier. We called him Pud because of his little puddin' hands. He couldn't say 'L' very well when he was toddler, and my dad would crack up every time Theron would ask him to take the "nid" off the coke bottle for him. But I think my favorite story of him was when we picked up Henry.

We'd traveled down to Logan to buy a new buck for our sheep herd. We picked him up when he was just a young lamb, and on the way home we asked Theron what we should name him. Theron thought about it for a minute and then said, "Hmmmm, Henry." We knew nobody named Henry, no cartoon characters called Henry or any connection to a Henry, but the name stuck and Henry it was. Speaking of Henry, a short while later Theron decided he was going to ride Henry. He dressed up in his cowboy shirt, hat and boots. Put on his chaps and spend the day walking around the house asking when dad would get home so he could go ride Henry. When dad did get home, we went over to the barn, pulled a halter around Henry and put Theron on him. I'll always remember my dad and I laughing about Theron's shirty thumping as his heart beat so hard from the adrenaline of his first ride. Unfortunately, Henry wasn't much for mutton bustin' and just trotted around a bit. Theron eventually slide off and hung up his hat on the rough stock.

A slightly less macho memory of Theron is when my mom, Theron, a few sisters and I were driving up to the elk ranch to do some sewing. As we were winding our way up to the ranch, toddler Theron began to sing. He had a bag of honeycomb cereal, yarn and a needle, and he'd been told he would spend the day with us making honeycomb necklaces. Apparently he was quite pleased with this as he began singing, "I don't know but I've been told, my mama's taking me to sew." He was quite the seamstress, and I had that very honeycomb necklace he made for me hanging on my bed post until this last summer when I cleaned out my room to move east.






He's grown up a lot, and has a great personality. He is charismatic, kind and righteous. I've always been proud to hear that he is kind to everyone and a good example. I hope that is as true as I hear and never changes. He makes his family proud.

Love you, little brother, and happy birthday!!