My Favorite Person

A couple weeks ago, when we were discussing the personal narrative assignment in class, I read an assignment sheet upon which was the line "You have had experiences that no other human being has ever had." Then yesterday it kinda hit me. If I just keep writing blog posts as I had been, it would really be more than nonsensical rambling meant to try and fill a quota that is due next week, without putting too much thought into it. Let's be honest, no one wants to read that. Essentially, I hadn't considered my audience.

But with that line, I realized that I have gone through things that no one else in this Writing 150 class has before, and that, whether I use this blog after this class is finished or not, I could write something important, something people might find legitimately interesting. What I'm saying is that I'm thinking of looking at this blog requirement more as an opportunity than as a...well, a requirement. So, with this focus in mind, I'll begin with the most important thing that I don't think many have experienced before, something rather personal.

I wanted a brother. I was nine years old and my favorite movie was "Angels in the Outfield," a story of two young boys in foster care, brothers in a sense, who soften the heart of a baseball coach, hardened by many a losing season, to find family. I could care less whether he was older or younger, all I knew was that I wanted a brother. I had three wonderful sisters at the time, yet by age nine, one really wants something to do boy things with, like play sports (even though I didn't really like sports) and go on adventures. I was very shy and I wanted a friend to play with at all hours of the day, not just when their mom brought them over.

So, in a childlike, naive way, I told my parents that I wanted a brother. They then quickly informed me that they did not plan on having any more children. Yet of course life never goes as planned and, equipped with my "Angels in the Outfield" knowledge, I replied "Well then, just adopt one!"

And, wouldn't you know it, they decided that seemed like a good idea. My mom would later say that she saw my little brother in a dream, calling her "mommy." Yet, next thing I knew, we were going to classes once a week in Auburn, CA (we lived in Roseville at the time) where my parents became certified whilst my siblings and I played in the back room with other children, me spouting my "Harry Potter" knowledge and boasting how I had read the fourth one in only a week.

I remember once, while in an adjacent room waiting for these classes to start, there was a young boy, probably about two years old, with olive skin. Due to my aforementioned shyness, I wasn't very good at talking to children my age or older and that, coupled with my younger siblings, led me to a certain love of children. I had a way of making them smile.  So, for a few minutes, this little boy and I laughingly played with a roll of toilet paper (to this day, I don't know how or why that got there, but it was what we had so we played with it). Silently afterwards, I wished that my brother would be like this boy.

In May 2004, my family and I went to New York City, Palmyra, Boston, DC, and Niagara to sightsee. On the 25th, a cold Boston day, unbeknownst to me, my little brother was born in Marysville, CA.

A few months later, we got a call and drove up to visit little Jeremiah Glenn Barnett who was staying with a foster family in Gridley, about an hour and a half away. He was adorable, only a few months old, with bright blue eyes. Over the next few months, we would visit Jeremiah (or "Germy" as I affectionately called him) often until February when he got to stay with us on weekends.

Then the company my dad worked for got bought out and we were going to be moving. To keep Jeremiah, we had to stay in California or close to the border...so my dad got a great job offer in Carson City, NV, where we live to this day.

In August of 2005, we ventured to the huge, immaculately built Auburn courthouse where the judge signed the papers and Jeremiah Nicholas Favero became my little brother. Within the month, we went to the Reno Nevada Temple and Jeremiah ("J" now) became my brother forever. Jeremiah and I are ten years apart, but he is my favorite person ever. I love telling people "Yeah, I said I wanted a brother and my parents got me one, simple as that," and I can't wait to see and spend time with my brother this summer, our last summer to hang together before my mission. When one of the apostles at General Conference mentioned adoptive and foster families, I called my parents later and happily told them that they had received a shout-out in conference, that I was like "Yeah, that my parents!" when I had heard it.

Except...in the end, I didn't end up getting just one brother...(to be continued)