On the Bus: In the Family

The reason I've decided on a second part to this series of "On the Bus" is not because I particularly want to say more about my bus adventures here in Israel. In fact, I could write a book about them, but the reason I'm titling this "On the Bus: In the Family" is because of my brother. For those of you who don't know him, my brother is Michael. Ahh, but he is so much more than a 7-letter name could ever even hint at. My brother is a school bus driver. But again, so much more than that. For a while, Michael has tried to find his destiny in life. He's one of those amazing people whom you come across every once in a while whose sole purpose in life is to try to make others happy, to make their lives easier, even at the expense of inconveniencing himself. He's a procrastinator, for sure, and I seem to remember him flunking out of Algebra and Spanish in high school despite his high IQ and technical/computer capabilities, but I've always admired him for his ability to "go with the flow" of life. My mom says that my brother and I are the two people in her world that don't have clue where we will sleep next and yet we're the happiest people she knows. Well, now I'm living in Jerusalem (settled down in an apartment, who could have imagined), but my brother, well, that's the real subject of this post . . .

My brother lives on a bus. He's a school bus driver ("Mr. Michael" is his name, and yes, teaching kids about life while he drives is his game), and to be sure, he doesn't live on this bus, but right now, he's in the process of renovating an old school bus--to live in. I didn't take my mom seriously when she told me, but then I thought, "This is the same Michael who once told me I didn't need to change out of my pajamas--'We're just going to the 7-11'--and then we ended up all over town with me in my polka-dotted boxer shorts and a t-shirt. This is the same Michael who was a cross-country truck driver for a summer . . . for the hell of it. This is the same Michael who took apart a computer at the age of 11 . . . because he could." My brother's an amazing person who will probably worry my mother until her old age, but he'll also give her things to laugh about.

So, how does this subject concern Israel? I don't think it does, actually, so maybe I'll just have to change the title of my blog. As I approach my 23rd birthday, though, this Wednesday, I think about the people who have taught me lessons in life, and my big brother's one of those people. He's taught me that you have to do what feels right--even if it may seem crazy to other people--oh, I guess that's how this connects to my moving to Israel . . .

As spring begins to enter Jerusalem (Yes! My clothes are finally going to start drying on the rack outside!), I wish all of you a beautiful week, month, year, life!