My First Friend

By Barb Brady

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”  I may have forgotten that a few times in my life. I guess a few times. If anyone reads this and has been angry at someone or drifted away for while — and forgot about the love, please copy any part of my letter and write your own letter.  I am blessed I get this chance to put down my words.  If you have a chance, grab it and hold tight.


My First Friend, a letter long overdue to my brother

I know that if any “writer” would read this, they would say I am writing this the wrong way.  But, I am going to start with the major event instead of leading up to it. But, you know me, I seem to do things a little off the beaten path. So, here I go.

The moment I was told that you were rushed to the hospital was one of the hardest moments of my life. I have prayed before . . . a lot. I have prayed on the floor and on my knees. But, I don’t know if I have ever fallen to my knees so quickly. I didn’t know if you would live or if you’d be OK. People have asked me what happened, and for one of the few times in my life, I don’t want to tell the story. I still don’t like talking about it. Stroke. I still don’t say the word often.

I do know this was your miracle. We both have had miracles in our lives, and for sure, this is one of them. You are here and blessed and I am blessed. So, here are a few things that I have been thinking about.

You were my first friend; you were my first protector; and you were the first person I adored.

You were by me from the beginning and maybe we both have such good memories of growing up because we did so many things together.You were the outgoing one and fearless. I was more shy and scared.  But Oh, the bond of twins.

I would go to so many of your baseball games. You were so good. And you would listen to much, oh so much, of my drama–it took me a little long to date the right guy. And, of course, there was that corporate life that was difficult many times for me. So, there was a little more drama to listen to.

I remember a time in college you got tough with me. I was heading up a big project and so frustrated by the lack of help at times. One day a girl called and had “another” excuse. Except this time it was a good excuse: a family member had been sick. But I was sick of excuses by then. I was distant to her and after I hung up the phone, you said “Barb (well, actually you said my nick name which will remain nameless here), you can’t treat people like that”. I called her back and really apologized. It has been so many years and I remember “You can’t treat people like that”. You were right. Yes, you were right.

We have had great times and angry times — did you know you made me mad sometimes :), and through it all, the bond remains.

We started together, we grew up together, we walked home from grade school together and dressed up as cowboy and cowgirl together. Oh those grade school years: we talked each night at bedtime when we shared a room. Oh wait, I talked and you said “go to sleep” :).  And when we played and I got mad at you and said  “I hate you”, you were the one that  taught me not to do that any more by pretending to pass out and not wake up. Boy, was I sorry as I then worked hard at not saying that any more.

You were there in college when I received recognitions. You were also there and laughed when I tripped down an escalator– you always seemed to be around when I tripped.

Then a scary moment for me.  I had eye problems. I didn’t know if I would be able to ever be an accountant again, certainly not a Controller at that time. I said people may think I am not smart because I may not be able to read quickly any more because of the eye issues. You said “I don’t think that has eternal significance”. This was one of the best things you have said to me. I think of that: eternal significance.

So, this is my letter — long overdue.  Christ blessed me and, I am so grateful, continues to bless me with you . . .

My first friend, my first protector, and absolutely, the first person  I adored . . . and still do.