My younger brother, Rocky, was an incredibly talented swimmer in his younger years; not quite ‘Olympic material’ but certainly well beyond the ‘participation trophy’ crowd – and no, the irony is not lost on me that a kid named Rocky – who typically went by ‘Rock’ most of his childhood – just happened to be a remarkably strong swimmer; he was a state champion and still a record-holder in a number of events (albeit at the Blatchley Pool in the thriving metropolis of Sitka, Alaska – but still!).

 

I adore my brother and although I’d never admit this to him (brotherly rivalries extend long beyond childhood after all), I have looked up to him as far back as I can remember. Despite distance, we find ourselves talking on an almost daily basis. Such was the case a few minutes ago when he called to tell me about an encounter he had.

 

Rocky was attending the wedding of a high school buddy and at the reception following the ceremony, he was able to reconnect with several friends and acquaintances from his youth. One of these friends, Aaron – a hulk of a man standing at 6’5” and 330 pounds – approached my brother and struck up a conversation 30 years in the making. Candidly, the two men didn’t know one another that well back when then both swam for the Baranof Barracuda Swim Team. Rocky is a few years older than Aaron and their interactions as children were primary limited to swim team activities.

 

The two men launched into that verbally awkward do-si-do we all seem to engage in at these types of events where we’re reunited with a gaggle of supporting cast members from the chapters of our youth. Rocky and Aaron covered all the requisite basics of a wedding reception conversation – wives, kids, jobs, parole officers, etc. when Aaron said, with a hint of emotion in his voice, “Hey, would you like your ribbons back?” Rocky replied, “What are you talking about? What ribbons?” Aaron said, “When we were little kids, we swam together on the Barracudas. We had just finished an out-of-town swim meet and I didn’t do very well. Not only did I not earn any award ribbons but I had disqualified from the one race in which I thought I would do well. You and I were sitting together on the bus and you could see I was pretty upset about it. Without thinking, you reached into your backpack and took out a handful of ribbons – some of which were blue, 1st-place ribbons. It was a very nice thing that you did and I’ve never forgotten it.”

 

Rocky got choked up, of course, because in addition to being a bed-wetter of cataclysmic proportion, he’s also a giant softy. It was a remarkable gesture especially when you consider Rocky was just a little kid trying to do what he felt was right. But here’s the coolest part (in my opinion) – this simple exchange between two little kids took place over 30 years ago; Aaron has carried this debt of gratitude with him all these years and when he sees Rocky, this is the first thing he remembers. How cool is that?

 

How many of these simple, almost insipid - yet genuinely sincere – type gestures have we done throughout our lives that end up sticking with the other person for decades to come? How cool is it that Aaron has carried with him this appreciation for what Rocky did all those years ago? This altruistic, selfless act by a fellow teammate has stuck with Aaron and, I’d like to believe, had a remarkably positive effect on his life. I am of the opinion this life is nothing more than a collection of these types of stories and memories we create, share, and pass on; little vignettes of meaningful gestures that are forever planted in the hearts of those we encounter.

 

I love that this kid had the emotional intelligence – that ever important EQ score – most people don’t develop until adulthood. As a young boy, Rocky understood that “how you make them feel” was truly the most important part of Maya Angelou’s famous quote.

 

As kids, it’s not just the blue and red ribbons that matter, but “how many” as well. One upmanship is critically important at that age and every ribbon matters – even that random fifth place ribbon. Rocky was a gifted swimmer and returned from virtually every swim meet with a grip of ribbons – many of them the coveted first place “blue ribbons”. The handful he grabbed from his backpack and presented to Aaron that day on the bus was not carefully selected to ensure he didn’t get too many blue ones; instead, he just grabbed a fistful of ribbons and made another kid feel special. He made him feel included. He gave this kid a mental boost and galvanized his spirit – then and most likely for the rest of his life.

 

Rocky is the kind of guy that makes me want to be a better person and I absolutely love that I get to call him my brother.

 

m.e.