I can tell you that me and my brothers rarely had a relationship when we lived together or when we lived on our own. The interaction was arms length at best. I do not know if it was the age difference, or the emotional baggage that comes from being half siblings, or the sibling rivalry and growing pains of normal family structure. All I knew is that I felt estranged from them my whole life. It is odd I got older one day having not interacted with them in such a long while and here comes my mother with an altered reality of life and how our whole childhood supposedly happened, reminding me that I should call my brothers and see how they are doing. UURRRR!!!!!!! :Record scratch: what was that mother? Why would I call and speak to family that never really acted as such. My earliest memories were of being picked on almost every moment. The smile spread across the face of a sibling as I got my ass beat for something I did or something I was blamed for by the smiling sibling. Or the teasing and constant reminder of how fat I was or how Girly I was, or how different I was. It is odd I would somehow be asked to forget this to hold on to a notion of brotherhood that existed only in the fantasy of one mothers mind. Do not get me wrong, I do not hate or never not loved my brothers. There was an obligatory love that one learns growing up as one is reminded of the importance of blood relatives and family. However, I could not have talked to my brothers and be just fine.
When we did speak it was always the same awkward conversation of them asking me the same questions, "How are you? Still work in the hospital? Still work for radiology? Still singing?" This is it, the only questions they could ask because this is all they knew of me in all of my life on this earth. I worked in medical and I sang. Remind me again why I needed to get involved in this so called relationship?
It is then I started thinking of mortality and my mother aging and feeling if her and my father leave this earth they would really like to leave behind an actual functioning family. A legacy of family members that can stick together and carry on some semblance of normalcy. But what if our normal was this? Divided and individual aware of each other and there in theory?
I recently connected with one of my brothers as he got a new girlfriend and his first child, my niece and its beautiful to see him being a father to not only her but to his girl friends son. It strikes a familiar cord as my father raised my brothers who had their own father from my mothers first marriage. Maybe this was the legacy that was supposed to be left behind. The responsibility, the good morals to step up to the plate as you take on a new family.
This got me thinking what was my legacy? This set me down a whole new slew of thoughts.
Legacy and me? Hmmmm
No comments:
Post a Comment