Sibling Bond Beyond Years

Only a few hours after I hugged my mom goodbye for the next nine days of summer camp, I pulled out a small photo wedged between my sunscreen and toothbrush — it’s of my brother, Oscar.

While most 13 year olds would worry about phone withdrawal and losing their Snapchat streaks while away at summer camp, I was dreading being away from my two-year-old brother.

I was a 6th grader at Westwood View Elementary when Oscar Norman Winkler entered the world Sept.13, 2013 at 1:26 a.m. Now four years old, Oscar and I share a unique bond — despite our 12 year age gap.

It’s through the hours of bottle feeding, rocking him to sleep and bathing him that my mom coined me Oscar’s “second mom.” With a dad who frequently travels for work and a mom who works long hours as nurse midwife, I often found myself turning down party invitations and sacrificing precious homework time to watch Oscar.

I love Oscar, but any teenage girl would offer up a slight eye roll to missing out on ice cream runs or nights on the Plaza with friends.

But as I grew closer and closer to Oscar, I realized how invaluable my time was with him. Along with allowing me to grow closer to him, all the time changing diapers, walking him to the park and teaching him to do a puzzle also taught me time management that would help me as my homework load increased.

The responsibility of taking care of a child prepared me for my first job as a lifeguard and swim instructor when I needed patience to teach a toddler how to flutter kick. Even the mere act of prioritizing family over myself taught me more about love and selflessness than anyone could verbalize to me.

And though it may sound corny, Oscar, with his golden ringlets of hair and single dimple on his cheek, was the one who helped me discover what love really was. Not the sappy stuff you see in romance movies, not a word with four letters you can throw around — but the act of always putting that person before you. Whether this be as simple as going to Chipotle for Oscar’s favorite meal when I’m craving Chinese food, or sacrificing my own sleep to get him to bed at night.

Now Oscar’s growing up and I feel like I’m watching my own son learn to count to 13 (we’re working on getting to 20). It’s hard to ignore the impending time in a few years when I’ll be packing my bags again for college.

I’m dreading leaving my Oscie baby again for college — this time for even more than nine days. I’ll pack a collection of photos of Oscar when I head to college, but I know I’ll always have our countless memories and the things he taught me when he was only a fraction of my age.