Growing up my brother and I didn't really have the closest of relationships. Unless, of course, being the annoying little sister to the older brother who had to constantly defend himself to my parents for picking on me is considered close.
That changed for a 6 month period when big brother decided to transfer to my college to complete his last semester. We shared a tiny, basement, one bedroom apartment and found that we, shock of all shocks, really liked each other. We had a fabulous time hanging out, learning about each other, laughing, becoming friends. He moved to Big Northern City once he graduated and we once again lost touch.
Fast forward to 3 years ago when my mom died and we spent a harrowing week planning funeral arrangements and drinking too much beer. I played the stoic and ran around buying flowers and planning for the post-funeral gathering at the house, whereas he handled things more truthfully. The lasting image I have of that crucifying time was waking up one morning and standing with him looking out the kitchen window (the most familiar of places where mom spent hours of time cooking and dish washing). He was silently shaking with tears and he looked down at me and told me that I didn't have to be the "tough" one.
Fast forward again to 2 weeks ago when I received a phone call from him. He never calls me. Never. The last phone call I had from him was when my mom died. I saw the missed call on my cell and began to panic. I thought that something terrible had happened to Pop.
Well, something terrible had happened, but not to my dear dad. Instead, I called my big bro to find that his wife had handed him divorce papers over coffee. Had they been having problems? Yes. Has she EVER mentioned divorce? No. Not. Once. Being the soft-hearted, kind soul that my brother is, he had two primary concerns: 1)his two precious daughters, and 2)what he had done wrong. He was sobbing. My heart was ripping apart.
So what have I done after that first call? Nothing. Not a thing. I think about him daily but can't for some stupid reason bring myself to call him. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.
Bad sister, indeed.
9 comments:
I have no brilliant advice, but sibling relationships are hard, and complicated, and I'm sorry you're dealing with this.
Oh - ouch. I feel for you. We are baffling creatures, aren't we? Take care of yourself.
You could still make the choice to pick up the phone and call him. Or send a note or email. It's not like there's a two-week deadline on these things.
You are right, jo(e), there isn't a deadline. And fortunately, there has been communication from my household. My husband is really good about these things. I think that the thing that has really caused the chilling effect is my hatred of the telephone. I just got big bro's new address and so I think I may go old school and write him a letter.
Oh, god, l'r. I so know what you mean. About the avoidance. About the guilt. About the telephone.
Hilaire is so right. Baffling, indeed.
Oh, and, I love your new wallpaper!
I have Maggie May via Clare to thank for the blog makeover!
Thanks for kind thoughts all, I totally needed them.
(o)
I too come from an emotion-free family zone. Any sibling connecting always seems both very "natural" and very uncomfortable. It usually doesn't hurt to make a call--you and he boith know that there isn't really that much you can do, anyway.
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