I kind of glossed over it the other day, in the midst of my freak-out-tirade, but i'm going to elaborate on something that's really bothering me. it's very long and i doubt many of you will even bother reading this, but i need to get it off my chest.
my brother and i have never been, what anyone would call, close. we're 18 months apart (he's older) and couldn't be more dissimilar if we were born different species. my mom tells this adorable and amusing story of how, when i was brought home from the hospital, he dragged out his toybox out as sort of a Welcome to the Family, Baby Brother gesture. yes, it was adorable, it's also the only act of kindness that can be recalled (and not by me). we had a relationship that was completely tantamount to what my parents had planned by having us so close together: we fought like cats and dogs. i don't really know why, we just never got along and were terribly cruel to each other for years. i stress "to each other", because i want to be as fair as possible: i was both the victim and tormentor, like most siblings. any ill feelings i may have had for him were exacerbated by the fact that he was, what one would call, a "bad seed". he was always in trouble; my mother spent an inordinate time at school talking to his teachers and the principal. at some point he crossed the line from childish mischief to criminal mischief and just became a truly despicable person. he caused an incredible about of trouble and even more pain to both my parents till he was well into his 20's.
meanwhile i just did my thing: school, work, friends, etc. as i've mentioned (way too many times in the last couple of days), i was a geek; my teachers all liked me (or didn't pay me any mind), my friends were all basically good kids (we were all on the debate team for god's sakes), and i never got in trouble for anything bigger than incomplete homework assignments or low grades in Chemisty and Math. i'm not bragging, i'm just telling it like it is; i was on auto-pilot (more or less) since the time i was 16, while they tended to my brother. suffice to say, there was no way he and i would ever be Brady Bunch/Waltons close. it didn't really bother me, i had friends.
years later, as we grew up, we remained civil to each other (he asked me to be Godfather to his 1st born, which i accepted) and got slightly closer as he attempted to straighten himself out. last year he asked me to be his Best Man at his wedding and i was truly surprised. i didn't think we were there. i accepted, after some consideration, and we tried to (re)build some sort of fraternal relationship. i tried as hard as humanly possible to bury all the childish bullshit that had hung around us for two decades. i really tried to push it all aside and chalk it up to his immaturity (and possible ADD?) and my chronic over-sensitivity. i gave a speech at his wedding, told him and my sister-in-law how much i loved them, meant every word of it, and cried on the dais. after the wedding stephen and i made numerous attempts to get together with him and his new bride, to no avail. they were always too busy or just not interested. so i gave up.
i do love him. he's my brother, and somehow it's coded into my DNA to love him. on 9/11, i knew he was working in the City; i called my mom in a blind panic, hysterical till she told me that he didn't work that day. the problem is, i really don't like him. i know it's a sin to say, but i'm afraid it's the truth. maybe too much time has passed, and though it is all water under the bridge, there's no way to go back and make up for all that time that was lost. maybe this is where we're supposed to be.
about a month ago, stephen and i were at dinner with my parents. my mom asked if we'd started planning the wedding and i told her we had. she asked about Best Man and Maid of Honor and i told her i'd decided to have Jenn and John stand up for me as my witnesses. i thought about it and i know that if they weren't up there, it would just feel wrong. she wigged. she told me that my brother would be crushed and we got into this big argument over the place of family in my life, and it was all very dramatic and terrible. in the end i told her exactly how i felt. she finally said she understood and respected my decision. her only request was that i tell my brother. so, a few weeks ago, on the way to my niece's game, i told him that Jenn and John would be in our wedding party. he said he understood completely and that he was fine. he then said that he hoped i wouldn't be offended if they asked someone else to be the Godfather to his next child (his second, my sister-in-law's 1st). i said i wouldn't because, well, i'm not. i truly didn't expect to be asked. in my mind everything was fine. case closed. let's all go to the ballgame.
weeks fly by and here we are, on Saturday, out with my parents again. at the end of the evening my mom swears me to secrecy and tells me how upset my brother is over the wedding. to say the least i was stunned. i had no idea he was upset, because he never told me. as a matter of fact he told me he wasn't upset. silly me for taking him at face value and believing what i'm told by a 31 year old man. she told me i couldn't tell him that she'd told me and that i should call and act casually. i just nodded and we left.
i'm still dumbfounded. i'm also angry: angry that i'm supposed to realize when i'm getting the cold shoulder, angry that i'm supposed to read between the lines when someone tells me how they feel, angry that once again he's pushing me out of the way and starting shit. i know that sounds selfish of me but i'm just really upset. it seems pretty basic to me that one should say what one means/feels. i do and perhaps i'm crazy for expecting others to follow suit.
"I'll bet your wishing You could turn back But this is all you are now Not even as much as a grain of sand You're finally nothing "~ Blood (Casey Stratton)
1 comment:
One of the things that's hard for many people I've met over the years is the ability to say how they feel. It's very natural for people to say things are fine and then stew about it later. It's taken a long time for me to learn to be honest about how I feel and what I really think. And I still sometimes fail. But it takes a lot of introspection to do that - and some degree of self-awareness. You're brother is probably not there yet, and you can't help him get there.
It would have been better if your mother encouraged him to talk to you about instead of vice versa. You can't talk about what you (supposedly) don't know. And if he doesn't, that's his choice.
No one can choose their family. And even though you love him, it's just fine not to like him. You and he are too different. My bar is - would you even consider being friends if he wasn't related? If the answer is a clear no, then you're too different, and it would take personality changes to make it so.
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