Happy 1st Father's Day to My Big Brother

Honestly, it never occurred to me that I couldn't do something because of my gender until I won the steeplechase at the 2004 Olympic Trials, but could not go to the Olympics because that event had yet to be added to the Olympic program for women. 

What can I say, I'm a product of my environment. I blame my parents and my older brother and sister for expecting big things from me and having the confidence that I could achieve them. Glass ceiling? I didn't even know what that was.

When I look back on my childhood, I see me and my big brother Matt hanging out. Matt is 6 and 1/2 years older than me, but he played with me all the time. He also picked on me all the time. Man, I hated him! I remember getting a pair of sunglasses - you know, the really cool black and neon pink kind? - and wearing them proudly until Matt said, "Gaffigans don't wear sunglasses," and made me take them off. Jerk.

He would punch me in the arm hard, daring me to grimace so he could make fun of me for being a "wuss" and then he'd flex and say, "Punch me in the stomach as hard as you can." I would really wind up, eager to release my accumulated anger on him, and punch him as hard as I could. He would laugh and announce, "Didn't hurt!" I vowed to punch harder the next time.

We'd go out to the front yard and play catch, and Matt would kneel so we were the same height. I knew how to throw the ball right because my big brother taught me how. He had a paper route and sometimes I would get up early and help him. He would let me sit in the open trunk of mom's car as we crept down the street. I would throw the papers from there but couldn't always hit the customer's front stoop. One day I wanted to be strong like my big brother and throw them far enough.

Of all the things Matt made fun of me for, I never once remember him saying anything about Girls, whether it be about them being Stupid or Slow or Weak. My proudest moment was when I overheard him and his friend talking as I was hanging out on the other side of Matt's room, and his friend whispered, "Hey, can you tell your sister to get out?" and Matt said, "No man, she's cool, she's not like most little sisters." I was beaming for days...I was the cool little sister!!

When I was entering my freshman year in high school, I started to realize that I punched hard. Whenever a guy friend would say a smart-alec comment, I would jokingly punch him in the arm. They started complaining that I hit too hard. It had never occurred to me that I could hit hard enough to make a guy admit it! 

Matt never admitted that I could hit hard until he was in the hospital with cancer in the summer of 2001. When we got the call from Norfolk, VA, where he was stationed in the Army, my parents and I flew out there right away to see him. He had a tumor the size of a nerf football in his abdomen. My big brother winced when I got too close, admitting that he was worried I would temporarily forget that he was sick and punch him in the gut after a trash-talking exchange, which we never fail to have within five minutes of seeing each other. I promised him I wouldn't forget! I even stood back a bit so he wouldn't worry.

That fall was one of the best seasons of my collegiate career, athletically. I had not one ounce of self-pity, knowing that no matter how much the race hurt, my big brother was laying in a hospital getting chemotherapy pumped through his veins. He had said to us in total sincerity that summer, "I'm just so glad it's me and not one of you." That is my big brother. 

I ran my heart out to grab the final wildcard spot to Nationals, thinking of how he would do anything for the chance to compete again, to run, to exercise, anything but lay in that bed feeling helpless. He struggled greatly with the fact that many of his buddies had been sent overseas after 9/11 and he couldn't go with them to help because he was sick. He felt guilty for being sick. That is my big brother.

He and my big sister Catherine and my dad came to the NCAA Cross-Country Championships that November to watch me compete. Matt had to take it easy, but he made his way around the course to watch. I collapsed at the end in exhaustion, and I remember Matt saying, "How do you do that - run yourself into the ground like that?" He was in awe. I was flabbergasted that he was impressed with me after all the surgery, radiation and chemo treatments he had endured, not to mention the fact that he'd completed three Ironman's himself before finding out he was sick! That was my big brother.

Matt fought hard against cancer, and Matt won. He met a cute nurse while he was in the hospital, and his fiery red hair grew back too. When he told me about Lezlie, he would tell stories of her giving him a hard time, saying with mock surprise, "She's all of five-feet-two and a buck-oh-five and guess what she said to me!" He married Lezlie the next year, and they both wanted kids very badly. They knew it was going to be difficult, as Matt's cancer had affected his fertility. Matt went back into the military, as part of the Navy this time, and got into medical school. They decided to wait to start the long and emotionally-draining process of IVF until after he finished school. 

After almost a year (it seemed like many years at the time), Matt and Lezlie were pregnant with healthy twin babies, one boy and one girl. Lyllah and Joe were born on February 1, 2010, a month and a week early. Joe was much smaller than Lyllah. Matt said proudly, "Lyllah was ready to come out and dragged Joe with her whether he was ready or not!" Joe must have said, "OK Big Sis, if you're ready, let's go. I'll make it just fine." He's a fighter like his daddy.

What lucky little babies they are. Lyllah is going to grow up feeling comfortable asserting herself, with her daddy and he brother as her biggest cheerleaders and her mommy as her role model. Joe is going to grow up respecting and admiring strong women like his mommy and his sister. He is going to have a big heart, strong mind and disarming smile, just like his daddy. In fact, he already does.

photo by Lynn Bee Photography

Happy First Father's Day to my big brother Matt, and to all the men out there who love ass-kicking women.

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