How it all started: MOG #1

This is how it all got started, one very spontaneous December night....


MOG #1: Doorsteps and stairwells

First post! How exciting!

So this is how it all got started. My brother called me last night to check in and when I asked him how his evening plans were shaping up, he said something I think many of us do: "probably just going to hang out, wallow in my sorrows and call it a day". His circumstances are, of course, private, but it's heartbreaking to hear anyone say that's what they're doing tonight, especially when you share the same DNA with them. The funny thing is I was thinking of doing the same thing. I had gone out the night before and you know after a night of good times you can just feel sad? It's a common feeling- the depressants in the substances play tricks on our brains, that's why the most fun people at a party are the quietest at dinner time the next day. So when he turned down my offer to see a movie I knew I had to stop my sorry story in its tracks. I thought "that's enough. I can choose to sit here and be sad or I can go make someone else feel better."

It was as simple as that.

Off I went to Shoppers to buy care-package like things: health magazines, delicious smelling soap and some candy, then I stopped at Starbucks for his favourite drink. In the drive thru I told the barista what my plans were (I'm a big fan of conversations with strangers) and he goes "that's rad man, come back any time and I'll hook you and your brother up”. I'm a big fan of Starbucks in general, so expect a post featuring the establishment soon...

I'm waiting on his doorstep and wondering if this was a good idea. I rarely go to his house, let alone make the effort to be nice to the man- he is my older brother after all. And while we joke around and check in every so often, we don't share much. Once he sees what I've brought over, "just presents" I say, and he goes quiet.

 I get obnoxious and make fun of the things around his house-- harmless fun. After a few minutes I start to leave because his little thank you makes my eyes prickle. Heading downstairs I put on my shoes and then turn around to say bye. His face is still, then scrunches quickly and we're both in tears.

I hug him tightly on the stairs and he stands still, but I've never loved him more. When I get to the car I call my sister and we discuss. What a good kid he is.

Later that night I get a text from him, "thanks for tonight Mary, I love you."
No Kenny, thank you. Thank you for starting a movement in me, for getting me off my sorry butt, into your house and back on my feet. You're going to be a-okay one day and I can’t wait to see how well you do. Your gratitude makes my heart glow.