When this guy came into my life in 1972, the joy and excitement and possibility seemed endless.

I was five years old. He became my younger brother, and I was THRILLED. S.G.L. My family was big on initials growing up. So that’s my brother: S.G.L.

I didn’t “learn” much from him in those early years; it was more live-and-let -live as siblings often are, I suppose.

But we had a lot of childhood fun together. As a family we did a fair amount together; we had some of our own activities too.

When I got into early adulthood he was in the mix for some of the edgy fun we had as teenagers, and college kids too. When he got to those ages, he then made his own way.

All along, I loved that he was my brother.

As we both settled into careers and our own family lives, we drifted in some ways; we dealt with big family events/crisises together, as best we could, putting forth a united front.

But it felt some distance developed over time.

Now that I think about it, I think it was more about realizing the differences we have, and making the most of the similarities and history.

Now many years later I have to say, I’ve learned a lot from him;

likely I’ve learned more from him than vise versa in the last decade or so;

he continues to teach me lessons (though he probably doesn’t realize it).

From little boys playing together as brothers to two grown men with families of our own, I’m happy to still call him “brother”;

I’m still THRILLED to have him in my life.

And so on this day I say, “Happy Birthday, S.G.L!”