Why I Miss Omaha

Before I knew him, I couldn’t stand him. When I was a senior in high school, my mom sat me down for a talk. I knew that it must be serious, because formal talks were not something that we did in my family. What made me especially nervous was the presence of my high school football coach. He and my mom had been regularly talking and periodically dating since the end of my freshman year. During this entire time, he and I never spoke about their relationship, nor was he ever in my house. It wasn’t that I was particularly upset about this arrangement, but it was definitely a subject that I avoided thinking about. Now he was in my living room. I knew what was coming before anyone said anything.

Initially, I took the news that my mom was pregnant (at 45!) pretty well. I shook my coach’s hand and promised to be there when they told my brother Jon. I think they were more worried about how he would take it. I was leaving for college in 6 months, but Jon was only a freshman and would still be attending (and playing football for) the high school where both my mom and my coach both taught. When he found out, my brother was initially upset but handled it well and soon warmed to the idea.

I went in the opposite direction. I grew angrier and angrier every day. Rarely a day went by where I didn’t say something to make my mother cry. I regularly skipped school and went from possible valedictorian to nearly failing to graduate. I almost was expelled from school for running a school-wide March Madness pool (thank goodness the principal’s son and a few teachers were involved) and for circulating a “Real” Senior Superlative survey with categories such as Best in Bed, Least Desirable, and Most Likely to Die a Virgin (I still think that was kind of funny).

I barely remember when Cole was born prematurely, just weeks before graduation. I have later been told that it was touch and go for a while, and that my mom was in very poor health, too, but I don’t even think I ever went to the hospital. After everyone came home, I continue to turn my back on the situation and all responsibilities. I spent nearly the entire summer at my girlfriend’s house. I never blamed Cole, but I certainly did not recognize him as my brother. It took a semester at college before I finally started to grow up. And once I gave Cole a chance, it was impossible not to love him. Even if we had to share a bedroom with me for that first summer!

My now ten-year-old brother Cole has grown into the greatest kid in the world. I have suspected this for a few years now, but after working at a school I am ready to say it for certain. I can’t help caring about what he cares about. This means that when he was five, I cared about helping him collecting as many different colored newspaper bags as he could (he was obsessed with collecting the weather-proof bags that newspapers came in). When he was seven, we would play miniature golf five times a week. When he was nine, I helping him expand his ridiculously large NFL and NBA jersey collection. Now it means that when I am in Omaha, I share his obsession with small school Nebraska boys’ basketball. When we play one-on-one, it isn’t Lakers vs. Celtics…it is the Elkhorn Mt. Michael Black Knights vs. the Bennington Badgers.

Our 18-year age difference leads me to look at him more paternally than I do my other siblings. And it leads me to worry and obsess. He’s a fourth-grader, and yet he hasn’t had to lose any of his innocence in the same way that many of the kids that I work with have. He still believes in Santa. He constantly worries about others (“Mom, this girl at school was being teased because she is fat…do you think it makes her sad?”) He doesn’t ever hide his emotions. I worry about what will happen to a child that is this earnest. Over Christmas break, he stopped to ask me what this gesture meant. As I laughed while trying to explain, he looked hurt that I wasn’t taking him seriously. He told me that a 6^th grader showed it to him, and he was embarrassed that he didn’t know what it meant. I still danced around an answer to his question and I was consumed with an overwhelming urge to protect him. I know little things like this are what growing up is all about, but I don’t want it to chew away at the incredible person he is.

Last year, Cole told my mom that he knew that Jon and his parents loved him, but he felt that I loved him most of all. And I’m not sure he is wrong. When he asks why I can’t live in Omaha so that we can see each other all of the time, I never know what to say. I miss my mom, some friends who still live in town, Runza, and Creighton basketball, but thinking about Cole is the only time I ever even consider moving back. When I think about the possibility of seeing Cole every day and watching him grow up, Omaha almost seems like an option. It will never happen, but my heart breaks every time I have to say goodbye to him.