My big brother always gave me his fries 🍟

So, I started this account a few years ago after the death of my brother.

In the five years between 2020-2025 I lost my father, both my grandparents, and my sweet brother. The loss of my brother hit me the hardest.

Grief is a process, it comes and goes in waves. Today I had the most random memory

Growing up, my parents had some ideas about gende, roles, and food.

When we DID go out to eat, we never got to order. My parents would order a few meals and split them between the kids. I never got french fries.

My parents hated french fries for my sisters or me. We would get cheeseburgers, or steak, every now and then pizza. But if we went somewhere to get burgers and fries, the boys got burgers and fries, the girls would get burgers and part of moms salad.

My big brother always gave me his french fries.

At a restaurant, he would sneak me one or two french fries at a time under the table, and I would wolf them down when my parents weren’t looking.
At home, or in the car, he would reach behind and give me his fries so I could eat them. I loved for fries.

I have food issues, and I don’t get to eat out a lot, especially fast food. I hadn’t had french fries in a long time, and today I had a few and the memories flooded me like crazy.

How much I loved it as a kid, how as an adult I realize my brother probably really wanted those french fries! But he but gave them to me.

So few people in the world are as loving, selfless, and good as my brother was. I know Im not. I really miss him. And I miss the world being a tiny bit more beautiful because he was in it.

Anyhow, i’m too embarrassed to share these thoughts with anybody in my life, so I thought I would post them here