Letter to my Brother Rob

by Mary

In the days of childhood, the sky was the limit for our games. Ever the builder, Rob lead us troops (ie) Pat, Raph and I on a hang glider making kick. We used old black plastic and sticks to create homemade gliders that we tested out off our barns roof into the manure pile. Needless to say, this project panned out to be a dangerous disaster, but many other games of self innovation followed suite, generally either set in midwood or in one of Robert’s many elaborate tree houses. Often times we could be spotted with knives, hatchets, and wearing our full indian costumes that my mother made for each of her middle children.

Later on, these games were taken over by the game of basketball, which once again Rob choose and excelled at. Hundreds of hours were spent in the parking lot with a band of brothers, myself, and an orange ball. By high school there were no more imaginative games. In the summer we kids could be found at Rung Hollow swimming. What fun it was to plunge off the barge rope into the cool lake! Winter time provided my family the opportunity to watch my brother’s basketball games.  It was a gift for the household to be able to watch Rob develop as an athlete and to follow his teams ups and downs on long cold Wisconsin winter nights.

As the chronicle of our childhood and teenage years dissipated, Rob became a rambling man. His adventures initially took him south, and than on to Texas where he became a philosophical, two-stepping carpenter. For as long as my memory serves me, he always has had the ability to express logic to me in a way that presented sensibility (depending on my mood). It is no wonder that contingent to his wanderings, Rob applied himself to studying Philosophy and Theology. Of Robert’s theological musings, my favorite has been when he shares insights on the subject of virtue. Upon the quest to obtain knowledge on this principle, my brother packed his black nissan truck and moved to Steubenville Ohio. While studying at the University of Steubenville, he came upon virtue in the form of human flesh…Nicole Naugle.

Nicole is a devout and virtuous women. She has a carefree laugh and honest sincerity. Soon she and Rob will be embarking on the adventure of life as husband and wife.

As a virtual expression of sisterly sentiment, I would like to continue this post with some pictures that depict my brother Robert James Slattery.

Robert: A true chivalrous desperado in desperate need of a haircut.

Behind my fears and insecurities, I always knew that my big brother would protect me from getting hurt. He has always been able to extend a hand to help me up when I am down, or use it to protect me. He has man-handled my arab/shetland pony when she would buck me off faster than I could blink, and taken care of business to an Etrick victim:) 😦

P.S. I am going to tag on the addition of saying that I totally brought the genius of Wranglers into this household, he totally copies me by wearing wranglers, and doesn’t even know it!

Super sweet, super caring, that’s my big bro.

Rob and I do have our battles-we still fight over Mom.

https://i1.wp.com/a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-ash1/v652/120/102/1033472528/n1033472528_324392_5096.jpg

Fortunately, he has found a good woman who exhibits similar qualities to that of my mother.

I have this theory that siblings who are closest in age fight the most and also the most protective of one another. That’s certainly the case with us two. One thing of more of a trivial nature is the disdain I feel towards some horrid shirts that he likes to wear. He really truly sincerely thinks that this worse- than -awful dream shirt, for a 80 year old retiree on a golf coarse in Florida, is GREAT. I should add that he has been wearing it since he was an 18 year old with peroxide blonde hair. Yikes!https://i1.wp.com/a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v334/91/114/506091306/n506091306_1226391_7996.jpg

I can’t produce a blog post on my brother without mentioning that he has a lot more people then his little sister valuing his company. Rob is a natural leader and has a plethora of friends. As a matter of fact, for the last 2 remaining weeks of his life as an unmarried man, he had 2 friends fly to Wisconsin to spend time with him, followed by a drive to Texas with a slew of guys to farther celebrate his time as a bachelor. The way I put it to my sister Kate was ” gosh, it’s like he is dying of cancer of something…the way those guys are hovering around him!”
Leave it to that popular brother of mine.

https://i1.wp.com/a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v208/159/6/574966281/n574966281_1625385_3106.jpg

Dear Brother Of Mine,
Though the world is a harsh place, and it is especially difficult on men trying to live in this world as a catholic spouse, father and provider, I have no doubt that you will whether all Wisconsin and Worldly storms, and be victorious as a the man and provider God calling you to be. Just get out in the storm and fight with VIRTUE!

https://i2.wp.com/a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-ash1/v171/159/6/574966281/n574966281_763047_15.jpg

Love forever,
your stubborn little sister,
mare

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Letter to my Brother Rob

  1. Marlenee

    Oh Mary!! This is a beautiful blog about Rob!!! So sad you didn’t find his picture with the tshirt the curls get the girls!! We are all going to miss single, crazy Rob, but I am more than sure we are going to more than love new married Rob too!!!

    Reply
  2. Erin Naugle

    Mary, this is beautiful. While it hasn’t been hard to do the last couple days, this once again brought tears to my eyes. I can’t wait to see you all in June

    Reply
  3. Pingback: The First « sweetridgesisters

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s