Gratitude: My brother’s monologue

When we were kids, I was mesmerized by my brother. He could talk to anyone. He made everyone laugh.

My older cousins would hang on his every word when we’d gather in the back bedroom of my grandparents’ house.

I’d watch him talk my parents into all sorts of things. He reminded me of a charming t.v. lawyer. He was part salesman, part comedian, pure charm. I wanted to be just like him.

My brother is the funniest person I know. He could easily have a stand-up career or his own show in late night. He has the type of dry sense of humor that makes people famous, the type I could only dream about.

Last night, my mom’s living room vibrated with laughter. The kind where you haven’t recovered from the last funny thing you heard when your body reacts to something even funnier.

Where you laugh for 20 minutes straight without taking a deep breath.

I feel grateful for the ability to laugh that hard, and to be in my brother’s presence when he delivers a real-life monologue.

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