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I am sitting here waiting for the door to open and when I hear the squeak of the door; the rush of air coming into the house, I breath a sigh of relief. My brother is home for the day. When my dad is here I have to sit and wait for the door to open twice. When that happens, I close my eyes and thank God for another day my family is still together. One day at a time.

I have a very strong relationship with my brother.   Since we are in the same boat so to speak he can truly understand my anxiety. Sometimes. I only have to look at him and he either blinks or nods in understanding and solidarity. We even came up with a secret sign we do with our hands. Every day the door opens I breath a sigh of relief and then he comes in and waves his hand at me and I wave it back. Even he says nothing and I say nothing we say a million words. One day at a time.

He is the brother that was born a year and half after me. My mother says that when he was little I would try to bathe him in the toilet since I was also short and did not have access to any other water. I heard somewhere that siblings can literally love each other to death; I can understand that. I wanted to bathe him because I loved him. I could have killed him. I did not. One day at a time.

Siblings are the kind of people that have to be your friends whether they like it or not. You have to live with them; they have to live with you. The know almost all your dirty little secrets. They grow up under the same circumstances. One day at a time you see each other grow. One day at time you share some of the same troubles. One day at a time you support each other. One day at a time you build a relationship that hold you up for the rest of your life.

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