My youngest brother, John, turned 23 today. He was brought home from the hospital on my eleventh birthday and was such a sweet little baby. It was a running joke that he was my birthday present.
Because of our age difference, I wasn't around a lot to see him grow up. When I was away at college he would write me letters to tell me that he missed me. During the summers he would come to St. Louis and spend a few days with me. It's really hard not to still think of him as the thirteen year old that I took to a Sugar Ray/Fastball concert. Sometime between then and now, he went and grew up on me.
He has since graduated from college and is out in the real world on his own now and doing great. I'm sometimes surprised by how responsible he is for his age. It's easy to say that I'm very proud of him.
Happy Birthday Uncle John!
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