After I forgave my little brother for being a boy instead of the little sister I prayed for, I quickly learned a little brother could also be great fun.

We’re seven years apart and that can be a wide gap for siblings to overcome.

That didn’t stop us from playing silly games as we did the dishes together. Truth be told, Richard brought out the silliness in me.

My mom was usually always serious but even she had to laugh when Richard and I interrupted our dish washing detail for some impromptu fun. I wrapped two pots in towels then fashioned them into hats for our march around the kitchen.

We were just two kids having fun together.

When l left home to get married and start my own family whenever Richard had a problem he knew where to go. We sat on my porch and talked through his problem.

When my husband and I had to move from our hometown it was hard saying goodbye to family. My tough brother tried not to let me see he was crying.

Sure enough, time and distance lessened the ties between brother and sister. We stayed connected by heartstrings but we missed the details of a lot of changes.

I found two things about family communications. The first is that when we talk via telephone, we tell the broad basics. We stay informed but we have to keep pressing to find important details.

The second thing I learned is that only siblings can understand family experiences because they shared it.

I often found myself thinking about our family dynamics and wondered how Richard really felt about it.

My brother keeps amazing me for the positive changes he continues making. One change I appreciate is that he now shares his feelings more readily. Talking to him is always revealing, especially when we compare family experiences.

Yesterday when I called Richard for his birthday we got to talking about our mom.

Our mean mom.

Or, so we might have thought when we were kids.

Mom was strict, much more so than other parents. She was fond of saying she didn’t care about what other parents were doing. She only cared about us.

Mom didn’t baby us or coddle us. Instead, she taught us how to deal with life most successfully.

Richard told the story about wanting a BB-gun to go shooting with his buddies.

He had saved all but $15. Mom wouldn’t give him the money outright. But she did give him a loan that Richard paid off $5 a month.

At the time, Richard was 11½, six months too young for a paper route. Because I worked for the paper at the time, they hired Richard right away.

Back then, a paper route also meant having to collect money from customers. It taught my brother a lot.

Actually he started working at 11½ and never stopped for a break, not even after he finished his Navy commitment.

“I had 24 days of pay coming when I got home. Mom insisted I had to get a job right away instead of just relying on that money,” he said.

We weren’t allowed to be idle in our family.

When my Mom bought a new car she wanted me to have her old one. But she didn’t give it to me. She took me to her bank, helped me secure a low interest loan and taught me how to avoid high interest payments.

As Richard looks back he said he is filled with gratitude for the way my mother shaped his work ethic and his approach to money.

“Mom taught me to save part of everything I earned. That sure has helped me have a better retirement,” he said.

My mom taught us never to waste anything. Not money, not one bit of food. Nothing. We worked for what we had and we took care of what we had. “So much of what I am today I owe to my mother,” my brother said.

She also taught us not through words but though her example.

Richard and I observed how she never complained about her circumstance in life. While she endured hardships that would bring anyone to their knees. I never heard her bemoaning her fate.

Nor did I hear one complaint about her physical pain and ailments.

To this day when I have to go through something difficult I think of Mom’s example. Then I know I will prevail in my own circumstances because I have her blood coursing through my veins.

My brother and I know that we owe so much of what we have along with some smart decisions we made to our mom.

Our Mean Mom.

That’s the way I sometimes thought of her when I was a kid.

If I couldn’t go with my friends before I scrubbed the porch it was because I had a mean mom.

If I had to come home early and had to account for everything I did, it was because my mom was mean.

When my friends were smoking I couldn’t join them because Mean Mom would clobber me.

Now, I’m grateful when doctors ask me if I ever smoked.

Mean mom saved me from many mistakes.

I love having a brother who shares my family history and who knows the blessing of having had a mean mom.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net