Cam

My brother, Cam, got married a week ago today. It was a wonderful occasion. We are all very aware that Cam is incredibly blessed to have his wife, Kyla at his side. She's the full package. Smart, beautiful, kind and funny. She balances him, organizes him and has demonstrated that she will love and care for him no matter the circumstances.

However, because Cam is my only sibling, because he just got married and because I can, I want to take some space to talk about the kind of guy that Kyla's married. It's often been noted in literature that there is no one in the world that is a closer genetic match to you than your sibling. There is no one else, who when your parents are gone, will be able to remember your early lives other than your siblings. They are often your first playmate, your first adversary and your first defender. For Cam and myself this is the case.

My parents basically gave me Cam as a present on my 3rd birthday. That was the first day I met him. Born the night before, he had breathing complications that saw him rushed to the NICU before my mom even got to hold him. Obviously he survived but he scared my mom out of having anymore children. As I sat there on my mom's hospital bed looking at him, I was very puzzled as to why they were naming him after a camera. I distinctly remember thinking 'he sure doesn't look like a camera'.

Cam was my first playmate. We both had amazing imaginations and as a bonus, Cam was the more laid back of the two of us and was usually happy to go along with whatever I decided we were playing. We slid down the stairs on couch cushions, built forts, flew Barbie/G.I Joe helicopter missions, played street  and hallway hockey together. When it was windy outside we would imagine we were preparing for, and then running from a tornado. Cam happened to have blue carpet and a Captain's bed in his room which made for an instant game of fishing, sailing and being rescued from sharks when we fell overboard.

There are a few family stories that revolve around me mistreating my brother. Notably that I put him in the dryer once (though I didn't do it maliciously) and that I held him under water in the kiddie pool (I did do that maliciously). I may have also witnessed Cam taste testing three different types of soap and dog treats. However, it was Cam who all on his own, dumped a box of salt straight into his mouth thinking it was sugar. It was Cam who took the oil can and oiled EVERYTHING in dad's workshop and Cam who decided to build a new electrical appliance out of old spare parts and then attempted to plug it in to the wall. Fortunately mom's spidey-sense was tingling and she caught him just as the plug headed for the socket.

Sometimes, after I had received a severe punishment and was crying in my room, Cam would come in and hug me and try to make me laugh. I remember standing in the school yard one day in elementary school while a group of bullies hurled insults and threats at me. Cam saw me and he simply walked over ignored the bullies and taking me by the hand, led me away. That was the type of kid my little brother was.

Now I want to talk about the type of man Cam is today. There are some things I continue to share with my brother. We are both extremely avid readers. We both love dogs. We enjoy debating politics and current events. Cam's the only person who could get away with phoning me at 8 a.m. on a Saturday just so we could debate the Wildrose Party vs. the Conservative party while we're still lying in our respective beds. We enjoy hiking, soccer and hockey and we both love that we're Albertans. Cam is one of the only people who can get away with calling me by my full name.

Cam makes an effort to converse with every person in the service industry he meets. Whether they are a waitress, janitor, salesperson or cashier, at the very least he will have learned their name and how their day is going before he leaves, if not more. He takes the time to thank them with sincerity for the job that they do. Cam is the type of guy who will go out and pick up a friend in the middle of the night when they need a designated driver. He's the kind of guy who will spot you the money to pay for your meal and then tell you later not to worry about it. He's the guy who can listen to you rant about your most recent problem and he won't tell you that you're being irrational, even if you are. Cam will even walk you to your car to make sure that you get there safe. One of the best things about Cam is that when you are feeling blue he will do his best to cheer you up and make you laugh.

When I was on practicum, Cam took two of his days off just to come babysit my dog for me. After Cam got rid of his truck he went back to the yard and got permission to take off the tailgate just because I'd asked him if I could have it for a friend. Cam took me with him to pick out an engagement ring, not because he needed me but because he knew it would mean a lot to me. Just before his wedding Cam spent most of a day with me while I ran the most boring errand ever. When I walked down the aisle at his wedding and finally made eye contact with him through the tears that were welling up he smiled at me and in typical Cam-fashion said "Hey, how's it going?"

At his own wedding reception Cam was down on the ground with a server trying to pick up the shards from someone's broken glass. He danced numerous times with the four-year-old flower girl and he stopped to take a meal to our grandfather's room because he was too ill to come to the wedding. Earlier that day Cam related that he was "marrying the love of my life" and he meant it very seriously.

Cam is the type of guy who told Kyla very early on in their relationship that he doesn't believe in "taking a break". He figures that if that is the case you might as well end the relationship. He believes that if you are willing to "take a break" then you are not willing to try to work through tough times and disagreements. If you are not committed enough to stay by your partner's side when things get rough then you're not ready to be in a relationship. Pretty wise stuff eh?

That's Cam. He loves Kyla, he's committed to her and he's an over all really, really good guy, not to mention a great brother.

So, sorry girls. My brother? He's taken.

Dreams and Painted Horses

A friend and I were reminiscing about the imagination games we used to play when we were kids and we got to wondering what happened to our imagination? It seems as adults we only use our imaginations to problem solve. I use mine to imagine how many sheets of drywall I’ll need to finish my basement or to come up with medical worst-case-scenarios and how I would handle them. But this isn’t fun like pretending the blue carpet was ocean and the bed was a boat and there were sharks that would get you if you touched the carpet while jumping to the island. I suppose when you’re a kid that’s being well-provided for and you’re being told when you will eat, what you will eat, how much you will eat, when you will go to bed, when you will get up, what you will wear, when you will share, what you will share, how you will behave etc, you have the luxury of using your imagination for games and stories. As an adult it seems that imagination is a problem-solving survival tool. The other thing that children have the luxury of doing is dreaming big. I whole-heartedly support this. I think everyone, regardless of age should dream big, but I’ve also learned it’s a lot easier to do when you’re safe with your parents then when you’re out on your own making ends meet. When you’re a kid, if you’re lucky, your parents teach you that there is value to your ideas and thoughts and that the world can use you in anyway you can imagine if you are willing to work toward it. This is when we were going to be astronauts and doctors, when we were going to explore the world and raise enough money to feed all of the starving children or save the rainforests. (We had a penny drive to save the rainforest in elementary school. I was seven-years-old and when they announced that we had raised enough money to save one acre I was sure we had just saved an entire forest.) We had big, wonderful dreams. I think we always need to encourage our kids to dream big. However, we also need to introduce them to real horses. (Random statement that will make sense soon.)

Also along these thoughts are painted horses. Another friend and I were having supper at the food court in Chinook Mall yesterday. There’s a big carousel there that I was watching and it seemed that there was a life metaphor in this carousel. Children rush onto the carousel and pick out a horse that catches their eye. These horses are painted different colours and are bejewelled and feathered and have flowers in their manes. The kids get on and they go up and down, round and round and round. They think it’s great. Who wouldn’t want a shiny horse with a sparkly braided tail and flowers in its mane? I was thinking that some adults treat their dreams (or their lives for that matter) like these painted horses. That they’re colourful and sparkly and look fun but they just go up and down, around and around and never get anywhere. They never really develop a relationship with their painted horse, heck, they never even have to feed it. They just sit on it and think they look good as they go around in a circle.
The rest of us get off the carousel at some point in our childhood and eventually we find a real horse with our name on it. The reality of these horses is that they’re big and powerful but you have to learn to control them. They eat a lot, crap a lot and some bite. They kind of smell and they make you sneezy. It takes a lot dedication to look after one properly and to develop a relationship with it and even then you might find yourself getting bucked to the ground. These horses may not have flowers and jewels in their manes but they don’t just go up and down, around and around either. These horses, when they’re cared for properly can take you virtually anywhere at any speed you choose. They can carry extra loads sometimes and warn you when predators are near. Riding them may leave you sore and chaffed but you will get where you’re going.

I’m thinking that maybe, as adults, that if we used our imaginations more often for silly games and made up stories we may be less stressed and laugh more often. That if we could remember to dream big we would find more opportunities to use our talents and resources to improve our little corner of the world. If we make sure we’re putting the effort into our lives and dreams as though they were real horses, then we won’t be the weird, middle aged guy in a suit sitting on a childrens carousel while someone fills out a Form 1 one for him.