That’s my brother Spacey.
I love him.
We aren’t biologically brothers. We are family by choice. And have been for decades.
We talk every week, often by phone, many times by video call. We see each other in person as often as we can, which is never enough for either of us.
We are just there for each other in our lives. Our relationship is one of the most enduring and important ones in my life.
We celebrate each other’s victories, help one another plan and sound out things, act as willing and enthusiastic navigators for each other, and soothe each other’s pains.
One of the amazing things about our long relationship is that we have developed patterns, rituals, and a sort of private history.
In this artsy filtered picture of my brother you can see one of them. He loves to FaceTime with me while he holds his phone and walks around his house. He’ll do these conversational laps as we dig into something. Or I’ll just be present with him as he moves about his day, cooking a meal, doing a chore, or even going to the bathroom.
Yes, we listen to each other pee.
And that’s super intimate. But maybe not in the way you’re thinking. We just open to one another, and lay bare the contents of our innermost thoughts and feelings. We don’t have secrets or shame.
Compared to that, the sound of some urine hitting water is no big deal.
I’m grateful for my brother every single day. He’s a remarkable person, and my life is an order of magnitude better for his having been and continuing to be in it.