Like any normal person, something happens in their life that creates a pain in their gut and a sticky note in their mind, which to most is known as worry. I, myself, have someone to worry about everyday and that would be my little brother.

My brother has a form of high functioning autism which is a disorder that restricts him from being social around other people. As his older sister, I am very protective over him and ever since he was a little boy, he was made fun of for the way he is. He is still like this today, however, he does have friends and is extremely talented in many ways. Growing up with him in the same school was easy because if anyone wanted to make fun of my little brother, they had to go through me. When high school came around and I was no longer in the same school as him, I couldn't help but worry even more about him being alone. My mother helped me cope with this by telling me that he will be okay and that being away from me was good for him. The more and more I thought about what my mother told me, the more I understood that this was actually good for him. This was because he learned how to make friends on his own. This thought definitely pleased me and released a lot of the worry.

My brother and I are very close and he is my lifelong best friend. Everyday I would sit down and talk with him about his day which was honestly the highlight of my days. We did this all through high school and I watched my brother grow into an amazing young man; then the day came. I was packing my car with boxes of all of my clothes and accessories to leave for college. I felt someone standing behind me, I turned around to see my 6 foot tall brother with tears rolling down his rosy red cheeks then it hit me. I was leaving my best friend behind. Thoughts rushed through my head as I reached out for a hug. Thoughts of when we were little playing in the mud, thoughts of us playing with his Thomas the Train toys in his tent, thoughts of when he got his first job and how proud I was of him.

I told myself, as I hugged this tall emotional man, that he was going to be okay without me. He didn't need me to protect him anymore because he’s all grown up. Noticing this, I couldn't help but hold my brother tighter and tighter. We sat in my living room hugging for a full 20 minutes. I had thoughts of not going to where I go now and thoughts of staying home with my best friend but he did something that day that made my stomach drop. He slowly released his grip and looked me in the eyes. Tears rolling down both of our faces, in a crackled voice he said to me, “I will miss you and I love you sis, but it's time for you to go. I am so proud to call you my sissy and I want you to know that I am going to be okay.”

I have never been so proud of my little brother before. I said good-bye and slowly drove away while looking in my rear-view mirror. Looking in that mirror, I couldn’t help but see a little, chubby cheeked boy holding his Winnie the Pooh blanky waving bye to me. Most of the time, mother’s are the ones who show how proud they are of their children. When it comes to my brother and me, I am the one who is proud of him the most. I saw a little chubby boy who had trouble talking, turn into a strong independent man who I couldn't be more proud to not only call my little brother, but my lifelong best friend.