It's all in your Head

Don't Forget it's All in Your Head
is all he said to me as he wrapped his arm around my mouth. Brothers, right?
I remember a time when I stood over him, he in my shadow, and cradled his dreams in my hands.
I remember that his first words were bubba hold. Of course, he said that when he was hungry too.
I remember his first skinned knee and the first time he climbed to the lowest branch of our
       oak.
That oak. Two stories tall and swaying with the breeze. That's how we knew there was a wind storm,
the oak would shiver and shake only when there was a wind storm as if saying it wasn't afraid of anything else. My brother took the challenge when he could barely pronounce the word bravery, courage, and followed me up to the highest branches.
He smiled when he made it to the lowest hanging ones, his teeth visible behind the family lips, while I strove to make it to the top-most branches. He didn't fall. He just sat there, staring up at me until I reached the top.
I remember his first math test, 100%. He kept it perfect, no curls, no wrinkles, in the pale blue pocket
of his homework folder.

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