Twenty-seven years ago today I was in a hospital in Sacramento, eagerly waiting to meet my new baby brother. Even though I was only three, I remember the day — I stood excitedly in the hallway outside the delivery room with Nana. I had no doubt that the 10-pound, 11-ounce baby being born would be my new best friend. And sure enough, he was. He’s also turned out to be an incredibly thoughtful, caring, and all-around great man.
Growing up, Peter and I were buds and always had each other’s backs. Even though we now live on opposite coasts, we always will. We used to wrestle a lot as kids, and being the big brother, I would usually win those battles. And even though Pete’s now bigger than I am (and does amazing feats like run marathons), he likes to say that psychologically, I could still take him in a wrestling match.
Peter and I don’t see each other nearly enough these days, but when we do — most recently in Vegas and before that for the best Christmas ever — we have a kick-ass time. Every time, it’s as if we haven’t missed a single day spending time together.
Pete Dog and I have an unspoken understanding of, respect for, and appreciation of one another — it must be that brotherly love. I feel lucky to have such an awesome little bro, and hope that one day we can live in the same city again.
The below is one of several haiku Pete wrote for me to be included in the amazing scrapbook that Jen and team put together for my awesome 30th birthday party. Reading it was one of the many moments that brought me to tears the first time I looked through my scrapbook.
Thirty years of Gabe
and to this day, a better
bro has not been made.
Right back at you, bro bro. Happy birthday! I love you, man.
Here are the two “for pete’s sake” pages from my scrapbook since well, they pretty much sum it up: