Family Ties
At this point in my life, I doubt I will take on the voice or character of a parent. Here's the thing. I'm not one. As much as I love my nephews, I can't even begin to fathom what a parent must feel for his/her own child. I know my parents love me unconditionally, and I'm very grateful for how well they raised me. I try not to judge parents because I have no concrete proof that I could actually do it. I'm a magnet for small children, but that doesn't mean I'd be a great parent. I'm very hesitant to tackle that voice because I'm not entirely sure I could get all of the nuances right. I do have close to 29 years of experience being a sister, so I felt a little more capable of capturing that dynamic.
It also seems to be one that is often overlooked in books and television. Obviously, we've all read the story where two brothers fight for the same girl, and occasionally, we're treated to a group of female siblings. Even that story seems to be the same though; there is always one wild sister and one calm and respectful sister. We don't often get to see brother/sister relationships. Those relationships can be a little harder to define. As someone with an older brother, we never shared each other's clothes. We never fought over friends. With almost a nine year age gap between us, we were never even in the same school at the same time. By some odd set of circumstances, I only ever had one teacher who knew my brother, my AP Government teacher. Even in that case, the teacher coached my brother in baseball. He never had my brother in the classroom. All signs indicate that I shouldn't be close to my older brother. He got engaged when I graduated high school. I had just finished my freshman year of college when he got married. In the middle of my senior year of college, he and his wife had their first little boy. Beyond the fact that we were hitting milestones at very different times in our lives, we like different things. He loves baseball and sports. On a good day, I care about sports because I lost control of the remote. I love all suspense and horror movies. He does not. I love dogs; my older brother tolerates them. To top it off, we look nothing alike besides both having blue eyes. How can we possibly have a bond as siblings?
Despite the differences strangers see immediately, there are the smaller similarities that shine through if you watch us interact. We have the same sense of humor, so we play off of each other well. Without necessarily talking about it, we gravitate toward the same television shows. Politically, we are on the same page the majority of the time. I never worry about asking him to help someone because we were both raised to be extraordinarily compassionate. We both picked careers where we help people daily. Neither of us looks away when things get hard, nor do we back down even when we probably should.
And then, there are things even I struggle to put into words. We have 29 years of shared history, values, and memories. There will always be a part of me that looks up to Craig because he is my big brother. I slept on the floor of his room when I watched too many scary movies. I followed him around as a kid even when it meant running because he was always in training mode for baseball. Even now, I'm incredibly proud to call him my brother. What I think gets overlooked sometimes is the fact that even though I might be younger, I feel protective of him. It doesn't just work in one direction. While he certainly prevented me from physically drowning when I learned how to swim, I go straight to defcon 5 when something is going on in his life out of the norm. I remember being in the hospital once as a child and hearing my brother say he wished it was him instead of me. Even then, in my drug induced haze, I didn't wish that at all. Why would I ever wish that on someone I love so much? Now might be a good time to mention that Craig got all of the calm genes that were floating around in the Coleman gene pool.
When I went to write about the relationships about siblings, it felt natural to me because it has always been such a large part of my life. Holding On and Letting Go doesn't reflect my relationship with Craig. In many ways, I see it as a ballad to the unique bond that siblings share. The relationships between siblings acts as the heartbeat of the story. It may not come up in every conversation or chapter, but it is always there beating in the background. The central character, Emerson, has to continually ask herself, "How do I continue to live when a large part of me died with my little brother?". It's a devastating question to even consider.
As my brother once said, "So what do we[Kelly and I] have in common? Passion. To help people. To stand up and fight for what we believe in and to treat everyone the same no matter what color their skin is, what religion they believe in, or what characteristics they may have. In this way, it is evident we are siblings. And that we are John and Mary Coleman's children. Our parents have always judged people by only one thing and that was how you treated their children and now grandchildren."
My brother is right, and I still don't enjoy admitting when that happens. I wrote the book because it was my dream. I published the book and am speaking honestly about it because I hope it helps someone else. I can't stand the idea of anyone feeling alone.
Blood may make Craig and me siblings, but it's not what makes us family.
It also seems to be one that is often overlooked in books and television. Obviously, we've all read the story where two brothers fight for the same girl, and occasionally, we're treated to a group of female siblings. Even that story seems to be the same though; there is always one wild sister and one calm and respectful sister. We don't often get to see brother/sister relationships. Those relationships can be a little harder to define. As someone with an older brother, we never shared each other's clothes. We never fought over friends. With almost a nine year age gap between us, we were never even in the same school at the same time. By some odd set of circumstances, I only ever had one teacher who knew my brother, my AP Government teacher. Even in that case, the teacher coached my brother in baseball. He never had my brother in the classroom. All signs indicate that I shouldn't be close to my older brother. He got engaged when I graduated high school. I had just finished my freshman year of college when he got married. In the middle of my senior year of college, he and his wife had their first little boy. Beyond the fact that we were hitting milestones at very different times in our lives, we like different things. He loves baseball and sports. On a good day, I care about sports because I lost control of the remote. I love all suspense and horror movies. He does not. I love dogs; my older brother tolerates them. To top it off, we look nothing alike besides both having blue eyes. How can we possibly have a bond as siblings?
Despite the differences strangers see immediately, there are the smaller similarities that shine through if you watch us interact. We have the same sense of humor, so we play off of each other well. Without necessarily talking about it, we gravitate toward the same television shows. Politically, we are on the same page the majority of the time. I never worry about asking him to help someone because we were both raised to be extraordinarily compassionate. We both picked careers where we help people daily. Neither of us looks away when things get hard, nor do we back down even when we probably should.
And then, there are things even I struggle to put into words. We have 29 years of shared history, values, and memories. There will always be a part of me that looks up to Craig because he is my big brother. I slept on the floor of his room when I watched too many scary movies. I followed him around as a kid even when it meant running because he was always in training mode for baseball. Even now, I'm incredibly proud to call him my brother. What I think gets overlooked sometimes is the fact that even though I might be younger, I feel protective of him. It doesn't just work in one direction. While he certainly prevented me from physically drowning when I learned how to swim, I go straight to defcon 5 when something is going on in his life out of the norm. I remember being in the hospital once as a child and hearing my brother say he wished it was him instead of me. Even then, in my drug induced haze, I didn't wish that at all. Why would I ever wish that on someone I love so much? Now might be a good time to mention that Craig got all of the calm genes that were floating around in the Coleman gene pool.
When I went to write about the relationships about siblings, it felt natural to me because it has always been such a large part of my life. Holding On and Letting Go doesn't reflect my relationship with Craig. In many ways, I see it as a ballad to the unique bond that siblings share. The relationships between siblings acts as the heartbeat of the story. It may not come up in every conversation or chapter, but it is always there beating in the background. The central character, Emerson, has to continually ask herself, "How do I continue to live when a large part of me died with my little brother?". It's a devastating question to even consider.
As my brother once said, "So what do we[Kelly and I] have in common? Passion. To help people. To stand up and fight for what we believe in and to treat everyone the same no matter what color their skin is, what religion they believe in, or what characteristics they may have. In this way, it is evident we are siblings. And that we are John and Mary Coleman's children. Our parents have always judged people by only one thing and that was how you treated their children and now grandchildren."
My brother is right, and I still don't enjoy admitting when that happens. I wrote the book because it was my dream. I published the book and am speaking honestly about it because I hope it helps someone else. I can't stand the idea of anyone feeling alone.
Blood may make Craig and me siblings, but it's not what makes us family.
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