Monday, November 11, 2013
So long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye?
I haven't spoken to my older brother since our grandmother's passing well over a year ago. Even then it was brief; I gave him my condolences (he was much close to her than I ever was). But even before that we went about a year and only spoke with each other for a few hours while we picked up our mom from the airport.
I wish that I could give you the low down on why we don't speak, but I myself am still in the dark. I've called, texted and instant messaged, all with no avail. He was my best friend while we were teenagers and he was the best man at my wedding. I'm told that he's mad with my choice to stay with my husband after an indiscretion of his at the beginning of our (now 9 years strong) marriage. If that's the case, I'm enraged and deeply saddened. Leaving, or staying for that matter, is a deeply personal and difficult choice, and I have always felt that you should support the people you love in their choice regardless of what you think (unless they're in a dangerous position). Ben has more than made up for his mistake and is a far better father, husband and man because of it.
My brother taught me to flare my nostrils and to whistle. When I moved back to the Virgin Islands I was maybe 8. He pushed me around our grandmother's property in a broken down power wheels to show me around. When I started school a few months later I told people Alan was my "mano" as he introduced me to his friends. It wasn't until the end of the day that he told me "mano" meant hand and that "hermano" was brother (the word I thought I was using). He only told me at the end of the day to spare me the embarrassment of correcting me in front of the others. I got my first job working along side him. I can remember waiting at the window for his school bus to roll up so that he could be home and we could play and steal our younger brothers teething cookies. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but there are certainly more good memories than bad.
I'm close with my younger brothers (as close as I can be with them being in their early 20's and child free haha), but I miss Alan.
How do you mend a bridge when you don't know how it broke? How many calls can go unanswered? When, if ever, is it ok to just wash your hands? How much is enough? I'm stubborn enough to keep trying, but each attempt does nothing but open the same wound and acts as a reminder that I've done something so bad that it warrants being severed from.
It's a strange sensation, being distant from someone you love, and even more strange when it's family. To not know how things are going for them. I even manage to get quick conversations in with my brother who lives in Hawaii. Sure its like every 3 months, but we speak and I know how things are and what he is up to. My youngest brother and I speak the most regularly. We see each other often and our girls simply adore their Uncle Tony and his girlfriend. I also see my younger sister often too. One's always missing.
So should this post find its way to my long lost brother, I guess i just want to tell you that I love and miss you. That I hope that life has been kind and that you're, at the very least, happy. You will always be my big brother and I will always tell the kids stories of slip and slide fights, our shoving matches, of playing Power Rangers and V.R. Troopers. They'll know of Mermaid Taxi cabs and falling out of mango trees and for sure they will know that they have another uncle who is awesome. And when we renew our vows in 2014, there will be a place for you, whether you show up or not. Most of all, know that whatever I did, I am sorry for.
Are any of you estranged from someone? Are you angry or confused? Have you given up yet or are you just as stubborn as I am? If you're no longer estranged, how did you go about it? Leave me comments down below.
As always, hugs til later.