My Brother Lindley

Someone I don't talk nearly enough about is my little brother.

This strapping young lad is my little brother, Lindley. Or as he likes to be called "Mr Lin Dixon." He's going through this incredibly irritating phase of despising his full first name and will instantly correct you with shouting "NO" at you and thrusting a firnger at his chest exclaiming "I'm Mr LIN DIXON."

Strange? Maybe. but we're more than lucky that Mr Lin Dixon can speak full sentences at all. Lindley is Autistic with a whole bunch of other neurological disorders and is basically our miracle child. He's a motocycle enthusiast and his favourite items of clothing include this old leather bikers jacket that smells like onions and his pair of sunnies he wears on top of his head which gets swallowed up by his curly mop of hair.

He also loves 60's music and  call tell you the song and the artist only a few seconds into the first bars of a song. We get along fine. We hardly have any issues but I'd just love to wack him over the back of the head at times. He maybe special but he's still capable of being a jerk. 

Life was hard for him growing up of course and his guarding angels are definitely our parents. With all his success he's had along with challenges, he's leaves an imprint on the people who've encountered him and often people never remember me, let alone my name. I'm referred to as "Rhonda's other offspring" or "their daughter," "I think her name is Marilyn" and my favourite, "Lindley's sister." Most encounters with these people go like this...

It's irritating when even your old primary school staff only remember you as being Lindley's sister. But in the end, he'll always be my closest friend. He's the most genuine person I know and never as anything bad to say about anyone. He's a pretty cool guy and doesn't afraid of anything

The End