My Brother

In keeping with tradition I will write about another important person in my life. At this point I have covered my sisters, Mary and Catherine, my Mom, and my Dad. There is one person missing from this equation and that is my older brother, Dean. Dean is about seven-years older than I am, but as a young boy Dean would still be just like any other older brother.

I have many stories about Dean as an older brother that I love to tell people. Whether it was the day he tied me to a chair and put me outside, or when I tried to play with him and his friends with water guns (they all ganged up and got me soaked), or when I’d sit in the backseat with him and I’d randomly get one of his “leg-squishes”, or finally when we were backpacking he pushed me upside down and called me “Beetle Boy” as I tried to get up. These are all great stories that make people laugh and giggle and go “Oh… older brothers…” Then of course there are all the nicknames (Boy, Beetle Boy… most revolved around calling me “boy”). Despite many of these great stories, there was always more to our relationship than just that. He may not try to admit it, and he’ll probably cringe at the thought of it, but he was actually a pretty cool older brother.

We would gather around the computer for hours and watch Dean play “Ultima Underworld”. Oh, we spent soooo much time just watching him play and do stuff. In fact, there were times—since I wasn’t allowed to play the computer then—that I’d ask Dean if he wanted to play the computer; just so I could watch. Eventually I was allowed to play and now I routinely whoop his butt—no really, it’s not even fun for me and I have to LET him beat me a few times so he won’t stop playing. Ironically, I believe his kids are getting really good and will probably kick me butt when I return home.

I am also a bit too young to totally remember, but Dean used to take my sister and I around our house and play “Wilderness”. It was a time where we’d pretend to be some group of people who had to survive outside on our own. He’d teach us all these interesting wilderness survival stuff, too. Eventually Dean got too old to play with us and Mary and I tried—but failed—in playing alone. Actually, in our efforts she and I found a dead bird and buried a mouse. Dean went from playing “wilderness” with me to actually going INTO the wilderness.

My father, Dean, and I backpacked the entire John Muir Trail (221 miles) in 1999. Dean was always a good sport about everything—even though I’m pretty sure he would have preferred I stayed behind. Also, I was kicked out of the tent once for smelling too much like fish. Nonetheless, the pictures of the three of us on the top of Mt. Whitney are still some of my favorite pictures I have of my brother and me.

Despite Dean’s seemingly indifference he was always my favorite and my childhood hero (something he probably got sick of). He was a Boy Scout and an Eagle Scout. Therefore I went to become a Boy Scout and eventually an Eagle Scout. Dean is in the Army. I wanted to be in the Army and joined ROTC my freshman year, but was medically disqualified. A big part of the reason I’m in Peace Corps is to serve my country like Dean does. Dean wrestled, so I wrestled, too. I was never as broad as Dean (though I am 2 inches taller), and he was always MUCH stronger than I was, but I was always a slightly better technical wrestler. Didn’t matter, because he’d still beat me up or say, “Boy, I’m trained to kill people with my hands, not pin them to the ground for a second or two.” Much of who I am and grew up to be is essentially an imitation of my older brother. Sure, as I grew up more I diverged significantly, but he always provided a good example to follow. In my extended family Dean is like the most amazing person in the world. I’ve never seen grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins light up so much as when Dean enters the room.

Dean also has done some pretty cool things for me in the past. In my senior year of high school I had a big party at my house and got caught. I was grounded for 6-months, but the day before my parents got home my brother took me to the movies. Sort of an “I know you’re about to die, so let’s watch ‘The Last Samurai’”.

One of the most recent experiences I’ve had with Dean was when I went to his Ranger School Graduation (yeah, he’s an Army Ranger). Well, his wife asked me to drive with him from Columbus, Georgia to their home in Colorado Springs. I went to his graduation and then we spent two days hanging out in Fort Benning while he got signed out there. We had a lot of fun at night. We saw Zombieland, a movie he was laughing pretty hard throughout. We had a good time, and when we started driving I could see how intent he was on getting home. He missed his family. When I got tired a little outside of St. Louis he wanted to keep going. When we got snowed in (yes, it was middle of October) in the middle of Kansas (I HATE KANSAS) I’ve never seen him so upset. He wanted to just keep going, but we got blocked right on the border with Colorado.

Dean cares about his family. His wife and four (almost five) kids mean everything to him. Dean works long hours, and has been deployed for almost half of his daughter’s life. He still spends whatever time he can taking care of and providing for his family. I have always loved going to his house in Colorado for vacation, but I also look forward to the inevitability of getting sick with some kind of stomach bug when I’m there.

As Dean turns old he will always be Deano-Beano to me. He will also be Captain Dean Lyon. He’s my big brother and don’t mess with him or he’ll beat you up (but not in front of his kids). So Happy Birthday, Dean. I hope you have a great birthday and a fun year. Maybe I’ll even see you next year for your birthday.