Scarred

From the day my parents brought my baby brother home from the hospital, and told me to sit on the couch as my mother placed this tiny little baby in my nine year old arms, she said, "here you go, here is your very own little live babydoll." Those words were gold to me. I took them seriously, without hesitation, and became his second momma, protector, care-taker, but in my mind, I loved him more than anyone. He was mine!
The day I found out my doctor was taking me off work due to the multiple health complications and disablity was going to be the next step for me, he was the first person I called.
At this particular time, he was in search of buying a home in a neighboring county, where his children were enrolled in school. And yet, still very close to his place of employment. As if it were nothing at all, he quickly says, so we'll just look at 4 bedroom houses instead of 3 Sis, you can move in with me, and on the weeks I have the kids, you can help with after school pick up's, getting them to and from extra-cirricular activity practices, and games until I get there after work. How super smart was he? He made me feel needed insead of a burden.