Photo courtesy of The Photography Collection
My brother married his longtime love on Saturday, and I had the privilege of serving as his best man. Below is the toast I gave at the reception.
Even though I am Micah’s older brother, I can’t say that I have always understood him. When he was a toddler, for instance, I didn’t understand why Micah was so fascinated by the contents of his diaper – and I especially didn’t understand why he felt the need to share them with the rest of us. Let’s just say Micah showed his artistic talents at an early age by proving that he could work in any medium. His art, as they say, was truly organic.
As we were growing up, I didn’t understand Micah’s curiosity. Whether it was getting his head stuck in the stairwell, dining room chairs and just about anything else; stuffing holly berries up his nose; enjoying the culinary delights of wild mushrooms from our backyard; or trying to see just how far his fingers could get sucked into the elevator doors at Disney World, Micah never stopped exploring the limits of his own humanity. Unfortunately, often those limits had to be explained to him by a medical professional.
As we got a little older, I didn’t understand how my little brother suddenly became someone I liked to be around. We played outside for hours, talked about sports and superheroes, and rode our bikes throughout the neighborhood. I didn’t understand how he could draw the X-Men just like they were in the comic books, while mine always had arms that were 10 times as big as their heads. I found myself wanting to be Micah’s friend, not his superior. I started to understand what it meant to be an older brother, and how the unique relationship between us couldn’t be duplicated with anyone else.
By the time I went to college and Micah was in high school, I didn’t understand why Micah studied all the time. He literally rewrote his U.S. History textbook – I know, because I saw it. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t give himself a moment’s rest as he pursued college scholarships, developed multiple art portfolios, practiced piano and studied the Bible. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just take a break. What I didn’t understand was that Micah was determined to do the best he possibly could in every endeavor, and that the little details that most of us overlook truly mattered to him.
When I graduated college, Micah and I went on a weeklong trip to Southern California. We visited Los Angeles, San Diego and even Tijuana, where we had to make friends with the Mexican police just so we could get back into the country at no extra charge. It was on that trip that I began to understand who my brother really was – and who I was as his older brother. Many times I would get frustrated at Micah for what I thought were his faults, when really he was just focused on the joy of the experience, not the logistics. It’s why Micah was such a great RA at Belmont. Not many people can say they kept on fighting in a Mexican wrestling, or lucha libre, event after breaking their foot on a body slam. Micah was just focused on the joy of the experience for himself and the other guys in his dorm. Later, of course, he focused on how to get across campus on crutches.
But that’s how we get to Lindsay. From almost the moment they met, Lindsay understood Micah. She understood that his creative drive and his relentless curiosity were signs of a man who would make her laugh and would encourage her to explore alongside him. She understood that Micah’s attention to detail meant that she would never want for attention from him, because he would always work to make her the happiest woman in the world. And most important, she understood Micah for who he was and who he is. She loves him as a whole person, not a project.
So even if I never understood some things about Micah – like why my parents allowed him to be taller than me – I certainly understand now why Micah and Lindsay are meant to be together. They are a beautiful, loving and passionate couple, and I wish them the best for the rest of their days.
To Micah and Lindsay, cheers.
