J is for Jason

I admit it: I started this post a week ago, because as soon as "I" was out of the way, I could hardly wait to get to "J".  J stands for, well, Jen of course.  But it also stands for Jason.

Jason is my brother.  He's two years younger than me.  For 9 years, he was my only sibling.  And it seems so strange that it was just us growing up together before the kids were born (I always refer to Steph and Stephen as 'the kids'.  They'll be 40 and 36 and I'll still be referring to them as 'the kids').

When we were little we shared a bedroom.  We definitely kept ourselves entertained up there.  We drove my mom crazy because he always wanted out of his crib and I was always helping him.  I remember watching him jump up and down on the bed - I always laughed at the way his curly hair bounced up and down.  We would "camp" under his crib - or was it a cave? I don't remember.  We would push the mattress away from the wall and sit behind it on the box spring and pretend we were news reporters and the mattress was our desk.

Of course this was always Jason's idea.  He's the one with all the imagination.

One time I got a little jewelry set - you know, plastic necklaces, fake earrings, the whole nine yards.  I can tell you that Dad was pretty upset when he saw that I dressed Jason up in it!

Of course as we grew up we started fighting, as all brothers and sisters do.  Except we made it a point to physically hurt each other as much as we possibly could.  Lord the fights we would have.  Scratching, clawing, pin-you-to-the-floor fights.  This went on for a couple of years.  Okay, several years.  But we grew out of it.

I think one of the biggest and probably one of the last physical fights we had was the one where he shoved me so hard I made a dent in the wall.  Granted, this was not a strong wall, obviously.  But I cannot tell you the terror in my heart when I saw what we did, hours later.  I called my best friend and had her bring over all the white paint she owned (she was and is an artist) and we patched it up as best we could while my dad was going for a run.  Seriously, it was terrifying! And like I said, I don't remember many such fights after that.  Maybe we learned our lesson, or maybe we just got tired.

Then we ended up going to the same college.  I started at one school and was very unhappy there so I dropped out and worked for a while.  He started at college and we went to visit him, and I decided that I wanted to go there too.  So that winter I enrolled.  We were even in the theatre department together.  It was nice to have someone I knew there with me.  Eventually we shared a house with several friends.  Again, I'm so glad we had that time together because it's something we'll always have to look back upon.

Now, years after the fights and the clawing and screaming and insulting each other, I can say without the slightest hesitation that Jason is one of my best friends in the world.  He makes me laugh like no one else can.

He is one of the very most talented people I've ever known.  A fantastic singer and self-taught pianist who blows everyone away when he performs, which is far too infrequently nowadays.  He has his own radio show in the town where we went to college (but it's not a college station or anything like that), and hopes to make a career out of radio or performing.  He's got the best personality!

 Singing Ave Maria at my wedding...not a dry eye in the house!

I love this picture, and will never forget that moment.  We were waiting in the lobby of the reception hall and getting pictures taken.  Suddenly, out of nowhere...let's just say that a rather scary-looking server dropped off a tray of hors d'ouvres.  I saw her and my jaw dropped.  Let's just say...and I'm really trying to be nice...that she forgot to take her makeup off prior to putting more makeup on.  For the last month or so.  It was shocking and perhaps a little scary.  Anyway, I thought I was the only person who saw her.  I looked around frantically, but everyone was milling around, chatting and stuffing their faces (we were starved of course).  But then here comes Jason, darting through the crowd with this excited look on his face, saying, "DID YOU SEE THAT???".  I was so happy that if anyone noticed it besides me, it was him.  And that moment has been forever captured.

Oh, and he used to eat cigarette butts and matches out of Mom's ashtray when he was very little.

True story.

I don't think he reads this, so it was okay to tell you that.  Unless my sister tells him about it.

In which case there's a few things I can tell you about HER.

But that'll be my "S" post.

PS...Who made that beautiful bouquet? Oh, that's right - I did.  Wait, who was this post about again?