A pitch for a new holiday: Honorary Brother’s Day

The author (left), with his friend Gary, a non-blood related honorary brother. (Photo courtesy of Joel Cohen)

The greeting-card aisle has cards celebrating: birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Day, the list goes on. There are so many ways to recognize the people we love, but there aren’t cards celebrating one’s chosen family (yet). This is my pitch for such a holiday I feel is missing: National Honorary Brother’s Day. 

I wasn’t blessed with brothers, and my dad passed away when I was little. I grew up surrounded by women: my mom, grandmother, and two sisters. After I got married, I had a wife and a daughter. But those male friends and relatives who were like brothers to me also shaped me into the person I am today. And if I wrote Hallmark cards for them, here’s who they would be addressed to. Happy National Honorary Brother’s Day to… 

…my first best friend.  

Lane is my cousin, born a day before me. We lived within walking distance of each other in South Shore, and attended Hebrew and high schools together. We daringly rode the CTA without adult supervision, and strolled the halls of the science museum. We once tried to build a miniature roller coaster from aluminum siding scraps. Every day we walked home together from school and picked up where we left off the next morning. 

…my first “big brother.”  

Charles is also a cousin. When we were kids, he lived in Wisconsin, so visits were more for family events. He is a few years older, and quickly became someone I looked up to. During our childhood visits, he taught me the basics of ham radio and how to finesse a pinball machine. We shared jokes, music, and a strange fondness for ketchup. 

…my first mentor.  

Gary was my first honorary brother who was not a relative. We became friends in college and bonded over our shared love of music. His presence was grounding. Just by being him, he showed a calm and maturity I sorely needed. Over our 50-plus years of friendship, this expanded to our love of architecture, the joys of Italian food, and driving to see the out-of-state works of Frank Lloyd Wright. Once, on the spur of the moment, we drove 700 miles (round trip) for an overnight visit to see a former college professor. In so many ways, he helped to fill the dad-sized hole in my heart. 

…care to share the ride?  

Norbert is another musical friend, though I have no recollection of how and when we met. At some point we started carpooling to work, and during those drives discovered that we really enjoyed each other’s company. He showed me how to gracefully navigate the complexities of work life. Even though he lives 400 miles away and we don’t chat often, when we get the chance to talk, it is as if our last conversation was just yesterday. 

…thanks for the positive spin!  

Bobby and I met playing a New Year’s Eve concert. Over more than 40 years of friendship, he’s taught me to celebrate life’s joys over life’s frustrations. He is always there for me. No matter the situation. No questions asked. Since his move to Elgin, we look forward to our weekly phone calls to share the recent news. Our families have celebrated together and mourned together, and I am grateful that he is always there. 

My life is fuller and richer because of these remarkable men. Their friendship, their understanding, and their patience. The women in my life have taught me many lessons—but there’s a special place in my heart for these “brothers” who showed me how to be a better person to everyone. Happy National Honorary Brother’s Day, guys! 

Joel Cohen is a lifelong Chicago resident. A professional classical musician, he is proud to join his wife and daughter as published authors in Jewish Chicago.