1Around the time of the birth of my youngest brother, my Uncle Mark was murdered. My father went through a state of depression around that time, and he named my brother Mark Charleton Murphy II in honor of my uncle. My father quit playing with his children after that and took up drinking. It didn't quite affect Major and Lex, the eldest brothers, like it did Mark. You see, Major and Lex had had their time with him to play, but Mark never quite got his share. Then, five years after Mark's birth, I came along. My father had wanted a girl for a long time. Even though he didn't overcome his alcohol addiction, I was his princess. I don't remember playing with him much, but I never felt deprived of his attention. When I had grown a little older, I began to be able to play some of the games I had always seen my brothers playing. I didn't seem to ever be able to play with them however. I felt as though they were always "team games", where it was my brothers against me. They were never short on ideas for harassing me. The three of them could always drag me around in a blanket, lock me outside, or even fold me up in the foldout couch. Their intent was never to hurt me, at least to the best of my knowledge. Therefore, bad feelings were not harbored.
I never doubted that Major loved me. I always assumed Lex did. But Mark's feelings were never too clear with me. However, Mark and I both shared a love of Power Rangers and managed to transform my mother's storage room into a clubhouse. There were snacks and Power Ranger posters everywhere. We were both members of the club.
One day, Mark and I were on our way down to our clubhouse when I noticed our cocker spaniel, Luppy, was there eating a squirrel that she had most likely caught on her own. I approached the dog, intent on learning whom it favored more, my brothers or I? I called her name, yet she did not seem to notice. Out of frustration and despair that she might not love me, I pulled on her collar trying to convince her to follow me. Unfortunately, I wasn't aware that semi-wild dogs should not be disturbed while eating. The dog's teeth menacingly punctured the soft, young flesh of my face. Time seemed to slow down as I screamed. I was terrified to move away from the dog, and I'm not sure I would have been able to if I'd tried. Pain surged through my entire face as the blood began to spill. I remember the look on my brother's face, one of horror yet heroism as he chased the dog off of me and lifted me into his arms. He assured me everything would be all right, and kissed my forehead. My parents came running; they must have heard me scream. I blacked out.
When I awoke, strange people surrounded me. I was confused and disoriented. I couldn't remember what had happened. I immediately called out for my mom. When she arrived, I felt her arms wrap around my small body. My entire family was in the hospital room. I had undergone minor surgery on my face conducted by a highly expensive and well-known plastic surgeon.
Though that day upon approaching my mother's storage room, I had been intent on figuring out who the dog loved more, I realized two lessons: I learned never to mess with a dog while it is eating, but more importantly, I learned of my brother's love for me. The complete lesson of that day has taken me many years to figure out, but my conclusion is that family comes before all else. The love that family is built upon is worth sacrificing everything. And who knows; maybe that is not the complete lesson. For all I know, I may never figure it out because love is an uncertain thing that puzzles even the greatest minds. Until then, I have discovered that you must live each day with appreciation for your loved ones because you never know when you will wake up and they won't be there.