For one week every year, I am one year older than my brother Jason. The other 51 weeks, I am two. We are the two oldest of the six of us.
I don’t remember many shared birthdays other than our Smurf party years ago. The rest of the time, we got our own cake.
Just like on Thanksgiving at Granny Acker’s, Jason Lewis got chocolate pie and Cheryl Suzette got lemon icebox. We had it made.
We disagreed and fought on many things, but our love of home was always common ground. We could not wait to get back to Blocton, whether it be for the weekend or in later years, for good.
It was always a treat when Granny took us to Davie’s. You got chocolate covered peanuts and I got chocolate covered raisins. I remember wandering through the McCall’s sewing patterns and Granny having to call me back to checkout.
Our teen years were spent as far apart as we could get from each other, except for our love of hanging out and swimming.
When you went in the Navy, I have never been more proud or worried. I still have all of your letters. I named my son Jacob after you because I wanted him to be called Jake, just like you.
Over the years, I am thankful more and more for you. I hope you have a great birthday and I love you.
I am still jealous of the fact that you got to sleep with Granny, she wouldn’t let me in her bed “cause I kicked too much”.