I was only two years old when my mother's stomach swelled for the fourth time with another new life. I can't remember what I hoped that my new sibling would be but I believe that I had hoped for a sister since I had already had two older brothers. I never got a sister, not that I had really minded. As soon as I had seen that little baby with golden blond hair and big blue eyes, I was wrapped around his finger and would do anything for him. My parents named him Matthew, but we all call him either Matt or Matt Matt.
As Matt grew, I knew he wasn't like other kids. He didn't talk until he was about five years old and had weird, unusual quirks. It was also when he was five that he was diagnosed with autism. My seven year old self didn't really understand what autism was but I knew that it was what caused my little brother to scream and repeat words over and over again.
It was hard growing up with Matt, always having to watch him and calm him down when he has a 'melt down' as everybody in my family called it when he screamed and hollered and his eyes and face turned red. Even now as I am writing this, I had to pause in my writing and run after him when he escaped the house again.
The thing is that even though he has 'melt downs', he makes a 'dit-ta,dit-ta, dit-ta' sound over and over again when he is happy or sad (I can recognize if the sound he makes means he is happy or sad), he is still my brother. Sure he might be a hand full at times, he is my baby brother and I will defend him to the world and back.
Some people never get to met their heros........... I'm the older sister to mine.