by Grace Pappadellis ’29 on February 27, 2026
Opinion - Society
I am overwhelmingly lucky to have a sibling, an older one at that. My brother has guided me, somewhat inadvertently, through our childhood and up to the present, without me having to prod, question, or cram into the category of “annoying, burdensome little sister.” He has shown me what it means to be a staunchly reliable, thoughtful, and softhearted member of our family, as he has undoubtedly made family his priority ever since he was a child. Even more importantly, he has taught me how to be a decent human. A good human. A well-informed, determined, world-conscious, tranquil human. He has brought an element of calm into my life—from a very early age, Sam was just chill. He has reminded me to move slower, look around, appreciate everything and even if you don’t tell the world you’re appreciating it, your entire being just will. He has reminded me to slow down, look around, and appreciate everything, even if you don’t express that appreciation out loud.
Over the past few months, I have been making an effort to move slower, even when I am in a rush, or while I am misconceiving that I need to be in a rush. I’ve grown tired of the weight sunk in my chest, as I ride the conveyor belt, all around, without any control of what I’m doing, as if I am programmed. I’m out of breath, out of my mind, completing tasks at a transactional level, without thinking about my movements. Lost in my own motor, running on fumes. I’ve always envied my brother’s ability to move in such a languid manner, with purpose, yet free flowing nonchalance. He takes his time, proving that things will get done even when the pace is brought down, and these things may even be done at a better quality. My brother can sense when I’m swirling around, when my head is full of thick, impactful fog, and when I’m losing my own sense of purpose. He doesn’t need to say much, but I know his advice will always be beneficial, warranted, and my parents urge me to listen.
“Step by step, you’re all good. You have more time than you think.” Simple words, significant words. My brother’s way of speaking is akin to my father’s. Still, simpler, straight to the point, no extraneous words and details that would only leave me feeling more conflicted over what it truly means to be calm and at ease. Sam has taught me that to be in this unworried state is to not dwell, to not overthink, just exist, and maybe even waste some time on the things I love most. He chooses to be productive when the recipe calls for it, but he doesn’t use a heavy hand, too much would be overwhelming. He has proved to me that regardless of speed and flawless efficiency, success is success, and it’s most evident when you work hard, every day, to achieve goals with longstanding importance. Sam told all of us he wanted to go to law school from the very beginning of his freshman year at the College of the Holy Cross. He just got accepted into his first law school with an impressive merit scholarship. Whatever Sam puts his mind to, he achieves, in his own thorough, even-keeled way. He is strong and diligent through every hiccup, and he works and studies as if he is fulfilling his destiny.
Sam experienced all four years of college, high school, and middle school before me. He is four years older than me, meaning he spent four whole years without a baby sister, leaving time for his contemplative, impressively imaginative nature to develop. He’s had his own quiet, calm experiences, but also monumental ones, stories he proudly shares, that I felt disconnected from when he described them in the past. I can start to feel them setting in now, I can feel their relevance in my own life. Now that we are both growing older and our lives feel relative to each other, I start to feel the slow trickle of possibility that I might experience something similar.
Sam doesn’t need to say many words to get his point across. He’s succinct, and I’d say I can be quite superfluous when I want to be. Sam doesn’t overexplain, and if he overthinks, it’s clear he cares, he doesn’t want to make a wrong, ill-advised decision. I guess I can teach him that sometimes in order to know what the right thing to do is, you must try something that may not be right at all. I want to teach him many things I’ve learned, tell him some of my own stories, and share laughs just like we did as kids. I have more insight now, more inspiration for our stuffed animal movies on our little red film camera. I’ll get the jokes on TV quicker now, I won’t force him to push me on the tire swing, but we can still take long walks together on summer afternoons and I’ll always be up to shoot hoops.
Most of all, more important than teaching any sort of lesson or sharing knowledge, I’d like to remind my brother of how much I value his word. I know it always has meaning behind it, because he thinks, because he is smart, and because I trust his judgment more than most people I know. I’d also like to remind him, forever, that there will always be other people out there who will appreciate him. Not just his baby sister, but every person needs a Sam and should consider themselves lucky if they experience one.