Being the Best Man to the Best Brother
Eight months ago I sat down to start brainstorming on what I wanted to say today. I love to write, but I found it challenging to put thirty-five years of memories, feelings and emotions into words. So, I did what any person would do in 2022 — I went to Google for advice. That is when I met Katelyn. She is a consultant in New York City who specializes in wedding speeches — who knew there was such a thing — and she encouraged me to take a walk down memory lane, discover themes, follow an outline, embrace editing, print the speech, and practice the speech. She then went on to add that this was the conclusion of my free consultation, but that if I wanted help in writing the actual speech, it was going to be $1,700. I paused and then very graciously let her know that I appreciated the free consultation, but I could take it from here. With that being said, this is the free version of what could have been a $1,700 speech.
I inherited the job of being a big brother on April 14th, 1988, but it wasn’t until April 15th that I met my little brother. He was a day old and to be perfectly honest, I don’t remember the initial meeting, but I have been reminded that I brought a yellow rubber duck to the hospital, placed it in the incubator, patted his forehead, and said, “it’s going to be ok”. Adam was discharged on April 19th and came home; my oversight as a big brother became much easier. The reality is, I didn’t really have a choice — I was stuck with him.
Growing up we were buddies. We entertained each other. We relied on one another. We would build forts in the living room on 7th street in Rolla and we would watch rented VHS movies all weekend. I would create a city with my hot wheels & legos, and incorporate a zoo with his animal figurines. We would race our bikes and play wiffle ball in the backyard. We wandered the woods of Camp Creek and rode four wheelers in Vida. We would use a square cardboard box from Forum Cleaners to play basketball in the garage.
But, one of our most common interests was the World Wrestling Federation. Unbeknownst to mom, we would resurrect a wrestling ring in the house when she was at work, and pretend to fight for championship title belts — oftentimes jumping off the top of the couch with a flying elbow. We were faithful viewers of Monday Night Raw, and we often talked about our dream of attending a WWF event in person. Then, one fateful week, our dream came true. I was thirteen and he was nine; the K-Mart in Rolla was hosting a Playstation 2 wrestling tournament on a Monday night, and we convinced Mom to drop us off so we could compete. Mind you, this was before cell phones, and it was a school night — we thought we were hot stuff. I was defeated early in the tournament, but one by one, he beat back challengers. It was the finals, and Mom had said she would pick us up at a certain time. We were nervous the tournament wouldn’t finish before she got there, but he persevered and won four tickets to see the WWF in St. Louis! Four days later we attended our first professional wrestling event and had the time of our lives; we had so much fun that we would go back multiple times over the years — most recently in 2018.
And, who could forget the time I pretended to be the tooth fairy. When he lost one of his first teeth, I thought it would be funny to sneak down from the top bunk to the bottom bunk and replace the dollar bill with a ten dollar bill while he was sleeping. Mom was not happy about the precedent of $10 per tooth, but tooth this day, we still laugh and joke with each other — one of the strongest bonds we share.
As we grew older, we shared our vulnerabilities and exposed our badges of courage to each other. I first recognized the power of his strength and inspiration in the Spring of 2009. I was in the process of coming out, and I had made the decision to fly home to Missouri to talk to everyone in person. I was feeling so many emotions — I was scared of societal rejection, I was excited to be my true self, yet I was nervous about the uncertainty of how family and friends would react. (To be perfectly honest, I think most of y’all knew.) But, I remember Adam’s words so vividly — after a 90 minute drive from the airport, we were standing at the kitchen counter on Lakemont Drive in Rolla and I kid you not, after I emotionally declared I was gay, he said, “it’s going to be ok”.
Five years later, in 2014, he moved to DC to reset/regroup/reflect and gain a new perspective on life. I cherished this time as an opportunity to help him, as his big brother, to understand his full potential and show him one of the greatest cities in the world. It was in 2014 that I took him to his first gay bar, and he quickly became a fixture with me on the DC gay scene. All my friends would subtly comment, “your brother is so cute” and I would roll my eyes and respond “yeah, yeah, yeah”. To this day, they will ask, “How is Adam? What is he up to?” And, I respond, “Mowing his suburban lawn, loving life, power washing his deck, and married to a woman.”
For many reasons, I will never forget those memories in 2014, but it was then that I truly realized Adam embraced me for who I am; not that he didn’t before, but this was real life affirmation. His support comforted me, grounded me, and encouraged me to be the authentic person I was meant to be. But more importantly I recognized he was not just my little brother, but a consistent source of strength and inspiration as we navigate life as brothers, best friends.
I look at Adam and see traits from all of our grandparents that we had the privilege of being loved by, sharing experiences with, and learning from. His genuine kindness comes from our Great Grandma Skyles. His humbleness comes from our Grandpa Dillon. His ability to be a listener comes from our Grandma Dillon. No doubt, his sense of humor comes from our Grandpa Tony. And, finally, his desire to find the good in everyone and everything around him comes from our Grandma Jan. The sun is shining bright today, and I’d like to think they collectively had something to do with that — Adam, I know they all would be incredibly proud of you, this day, and the man you have become. I have no doubt these traits will carry on to your children, and for that, the world will be a better place.
On November 6, 2018, I lost an election to the Missouri State Senate. While we didn’t get the result we had hoped and worked so hard for, I conceded the election and Adam said the kindest words possible to console a disappointed brother — I once again was comforted and encouraged by my best friend, my little brother. When I look back on those words, they mirror what I want to say today:
Adam, you are my go to. I may be the older brother, but sometimes you tell me how it’s going to be. You offer advice/guidance/insight, but at the end of day, we are still equal. Today, you stuck out more than anyone else. None of us can imagine the feelings you experienced today as you said ‘I do’. You have been calm. While showing emotion and sincerity, you have been composed. Your demeanor and presence set an example for all of us. I admire you and I love you.
Kelli, I may be the original boss, but now you are the boss. I have seen how you have grounded my brother, just the way he did to me in 2014; how you have brought out the best in him; how you embrace him as a person. He is still my equal, but now you are part of the equation. It’s an equation of love and family. I admire you for taking on this challenge, and I am confident you are rising to the occasion and will carry the torch of wife and equal to Adam.
Adam & Kelli, today, I give you these rubber ducks and promise, in the good days and the bad days, ‘it’s going to be ok’.
Raise your glass and let’s toast the couple we are here to celebrate today. Adam & Kelli, may you celebrate each other’s successes, learn from each other’s mistakes, and love each other for both of those reasons. May you be each other’s better halves. May you live your best lives. Cheers to rubber ducks and everlasting happiness.
