When I was five years old, my brother and I got into a fight, and boy was it intense. It was a long argument filled with yelling, counterpoints, and even some name-calling. Yet what makes this fight so memorable is that he was right and that almost never is the case. And I just wasn’t able to see it until now. Carter, my eight-year-old brother, was so generously gifted a brand new Lego Pirates of the Caribbean pirate ship set for Christmas that year. He spent a few days on it. I would sit and watch him correctly follow the given instructions, get frustrated when a piece went “missing” and watch as he begged my father for 5 more minutes before bed so he could finish the area he was working on. I could see he was struggling; after all, the box did say 10 plus, but he seemed to think he was 8 going on 30. I knew he would need some help, so the grand argument began when I offered my assistance. My help mostly consisted of bringing him water and asking questions only a 5-year-old would think of, like like, why doesn’t Santa eat the whole cookie instead of a bite, or do you think there are monsters under my bed? Five long, dreadful, and did I mention long hours went by with me sitting at the table until finally he was finished. He called the rest of my family into the room showing what he had made “all on his own”. And when he left, to go find a home for the new Lego set in his room, I noticed there were three extra pieces on the table. How could it have been finished? Surely he was missing a step. I got worried, as a good sister would, that his pirate ship would sink without the three, two by two Lego pieces left on the table. So, I ran downstairs just before the catastrophic event occurred. When I saved the day, and the many Lego people from drowning, I told him about the extra pieces. Yet, he looked at me, with those I’m your big brother I have seen and know so much more than you, eyes. Trying to prove a point he says, “You don’t need those.” The four words that struck my little five-year-old mind to get frustrated. We talked loudly for a few minutes before his harsh tone began to make me cry. I don’t remember much of the words said, yet I do remember he said sometimes there are just extra pieces. Those words had never made sense to me until now.
Throughout my short life of 17 years, I have developed an understanding of the type of people we meet in the world. Now take my words with a grain of salt, as I haven’t lived very long, and can hardly assemble a pirate ship Lego set. We go through years of our lives with people by our sides. Some we meet randomly and they become a key reason for our happiness. Others we do not remember the origin story, you just have the lifetime connection. But, most importantly there are those who you might not have forever, these are the extra pieces to the Lego set. These people could have been with you the whole time, from the first set of directions to the very last. But they might not fit on your ship when it comes time to sail. It’s okay to have extra pieces in your life, don’t hold onto them, or try and place them with someone they aren’t meant to go to. You don’t need to change things about yourself, if they aren’t meant to stay they won’t. It’s okay to recognize that these people have been with you all the way through, and it might be weird not to keep them in the end, but that is the most important part of growing up is realizing when things do not belong. So, I guess in the end, my brother taught me a very valuable lesson, that the beauty of life is that sometimes things aren’t meant to stay, and pieces won’t always belong, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build something spectacular without them.