The Big 4-0

Photo taken just last week, sneakily emailed to me for the purposes of this post.

My first word was "Matt."

Not "Mama," not "Dada," not "bye bye." It probably had something to do with my third brother's persistence, looking me in the eye and repeating his name over and over. It probably also had something to do with how easy the sounds are to make. But it definitely had at least a little bit to do with how fabulous I thought my brother was.

Matt was a dream brother for a little girl. Having a teenage Matt in my house brought me hours of entertainment. I remember Matt helping me build snow forts, building me a miniature golf course, taking me to visit the zoo, and bringing me along to the drive-through at Hardee's to order Dr Pepper. (I don't know why I remember that, but I do). 

I remember our family had handheld fireworks that snapped when you pulled the strings on either side in opposite directions (does anyone know what I'm talking about?), and Matt would tack them to doors in our house. I remember Mom opening the doors and jumping at the sound of the snap. She would simultaneously laugh and yell, "Matt!"

Matt being all professional at the UV50 Gala.

But all of that was a long time ago. My more recent memories of Matt are a little clearer in my mind and show a little more of his depth of character. When I became editor-in-chief of the BYU-Idaho newspaper Scroll, I was told that Matt had been one of the most proactive and effective editors the paper had ever had. He held the position more than a decade before I did, but I was still proud (and a little intimidated) to follow in his footsteps.

Matt was the first of my siblings to study journalism, eventually starting a publishing company with his equally journalistic- and business-minded wife. That business has employed six Bennetts at varying times and has become a booming business and strong presence in Utah County. I'm proud to call Matt my brother.

I remember one night when I called Matt to see if Ryan and I could meet his family for ice cream. It was the first time we'd felt like doing much after I had miscarried a few days before. Matt met us at JCW's, one of his favorite spots, and we sat and talked. It was so nice to get out and get my mind off things.

Two days later Matt's wife, Jeanette, miscarried as well. I didn't even know she was pregnant and my heart ached for her. Our family had two miscarriages in one week.

One year later, both Jeanette and I were pregnant again. Both of our babies were little girls. And today when I see my little Lyla and Matt's little Lola playing together, my heart swells with a little extra gratitude for our two little miracles.

Lola and Lyla. Matt calls this photo "Future College Roommates."

I'm glad I shared that lesson and that joy with Matt. We are sixteen years apart, but the gap seems smaller now that our babies play together than it did when my teenage brother took me to the zoo.

Happy birthday, Matt! I hope your day is every bit as great as you deserve.