It's in the DNA

I had to take my license out of its protective covering the other day and I was reminded of this little piece of paper.

It is my DNA sequencing. My brother Steve gave it to me. Steve is a DNA analyst. He takes little people parts and identifies folks by them, like on CSI. It is pretty cool. He has had to testify in court and everything.

Many years ago, Steve was showing this paper to me and explaining that he had to have his own sequencing identified just in case any of his little parts got mixed in with the little parts he was testing. Turns out, this DNA thing is handed down through the mother so me and all my siblings will be the same (do not ask me the details on this, I do not know how it works).

"Here," Steve said, handing the little paper to me. "Keep this on you in case you need to be...well, identified."

I was touched. Really. My little brother wanted more for me than an unmarked grave. This is especially wonderful to me because Steve and I spent most of our growing up years fighting with each other about everything. And poor Steve spent even more time striving with all his might to NOT be like me. (It's a real bummer having everyone say to you, "Well, Kris did it this way" and "You should do it like Kris." He just wanted to be Steve.)

The thing I love most about Steve is that he is the best storyteller on the planet. When he is around, I like to get him talking because it is so interesting and I laugh and laugh. I remember one time when we were at Lake Powell, he was giving us the rundown of the book "The Green Mile" by Stephen King. Steve is a big King fan; I am not. I do not like to be scared. I remember when my kids used to watch Barney and there was the song about liking ghost stories because you "get that tingly feeling." I do not like the tingly feeling.

But Steve told that story so well that I was simply entranced. And then, he didn't finish because he hadn't read the whole book yet...a cliffhanger! I actually went home and checked out and read the book because I had to know how it ended. And because Steve positively reassured me that it was not too scary and that I could handle it. He was right.

So that little slip of paper is important to me.

Important enough that I have carried it in my wallet for the last 6 years.

Because it shows that my brother cares about me.

Cares enough to give me my DNA sequence and tell me to keep it on me.

What more could I ask?

Steve and I age 4 and 18 mo.