Frankie…..I always thought of him as an old soul.
I mean it. Frank is my elder brother and took life far too seriously. I remember this one conversation we had – after my father left – Frank and I were in the kitchen doing what most people do in the kitchen: eat. We’re half Italian and half Portuguese – we eat! A lot!
Frank found it totally appropriate to inform me that he is now the “Man of the House” since my dad left. I wanted to vomit. A lot. Reference half Italian and half Portuguese…we eat a lot. We also vomit. A lot.
My brother Frank does care. I have to say that underneath all that harsh, serious shell is a loving and kind man who has a heart of gold. I worry about his heart of gold…I worry that it will give out one day for no apparent reason. I take that back. I worry that it will give out one day for obvious reasons. Duh.
Frank’s claim to fame in the Macro household and on Cape Cod in general was the fact that he was shot as a boy. With a gun. Close range. By a cop. The cop coincidentally reported to my dad. The police sergeant. The cop had an ego that was so huge he decided to go in to investigate a suspected robbery even though his supervisor demanded that he wait for the dogs. Does not get much better than that. Really….not pretty. At all.
Frank and I always had a rocky relationship. I was born a strong, independent leader who does not take kindly to being told what to do. Frank was also a strong, independent leader type. You can imagine how that all played out! I have learned to admire my older brother for the strength that was required of him for so many challenges he faced – starting with being shot at a very young age by a police officer. Starting there only meant moving up and over any of life’s hurdles with grace and strength. And that is exactly who my older brother is: a man of integrity and grace beyond what anyone can see on the outside. And anyone who knows him loves the person he is.
And so do I.