My little brother made me cry yesterday.

When we were kids, my little brothers made me cry all the time, for various reasons: one of them had read my diary, or broken the lock on my little bank, or stolen some of my hoarded Halloween candy. But yesterday, my brother Aaron made me cry for a different reason.

(Left: Aaron, 1988, age 3; Right: Aaron, 2005, age 20)

I saw him play the piano for the first time. I watched his grace and his passion, melded in a combination of heredity and individuality. His hands looked so like my mother’s as he played, but the movements and expressions were his. I was shocked by his talent, and awed by his interpretation. I was filled with pride, joy, love, and the emotional impact of the music.

And I cried.

I don’t think I mind if my brothers make me cry anymore.

Technorati tags: Family, Music