My Little Brother

Leyna Allen, Contributor

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It was a day like no other in Fort Gordon, Georgia. The sky was blue, the crisp autumn air was blowing in my face. I was an 8-year-old walking my way to school with my mom who was due to have the baby any day now. I was so excited!  I wanted my mom to have the baby that day, and that’s exactly what I got.

 My grandma picked me up from school, and the first thing she told me was that my mom was in the hospital. I was jumping up and down with glee, my brother was finally going to be born after 9 months of waiting. Immediately my grandma and my great aunt got in the car and started our 2-hour drive to the hospital. We finally made it to the hospital after 2 hours of singing and telling weird stories. On our way to the hospital, we grabbed some Popeye’s Chicken for my mom. When we arrived, we had to wait at least 4 more hours until my brother was actually born. My little brother was all bundled up and sleeping in my lap as I sat in the frigid chair. I asked what my little brother’s name was and in a weak response my mom said, “Weston Kristopher Sanders.”. After waiting 3 days, my little brother and my mom came home from the hospital. It was around 8:30 to 9 o’clock at night when they came, but I was still excited to see my mom and brother. I spent all of my nights and days with him, watching every move he made.

Four years has passed and I’ve seen everything he has done from his first steps to him going to school. The easiest thing about being a big sister is taking care of them and just spending time with them. The hardest thing though is watching them grow up and then you have to let go of them when they start to have friends and when they go to school. To others he’s a rowdy, lovable, nerdy 4 year old boy, but he will always and forever be my little baby brother.