How long does it take a heart to give up
I was sitting yesterday watching the baby rabbits play and remembered that I had a brother. It was the strangest thing.
I said it to myself and kept repeating, “I have a brother.” I think I was waiting for there to be some emotional response. Sadness? Curiousity? Anger?
I tried to feel something … anything.
Nothing came.
I have a brother. I have a blue dress. I have a guitar. The grass is green. 2 + 2 = 4 . Facts that mean nothing.
I have a brother. He is not quite 14 months older than me. We survived our horrific childhood. He protected me. We were, at times, our only friends. We were in the same grade all through school, in the same classroom. We played most of the same sports, did many of the same things. We knew all of each other’s friends. We dated some. We got married within a year of one another. Our 4 children were born almost at the same times. His wife and I were best friends. We lived close to one another. We attended the same church. We are not friends. We are not close. We do not see one another. I have not spoken to him in years and have not really seen him in any meaningful way since we were kids.
I left home at 15.
I desperately wanted my brother. I needed him. I loved and adored him. I tried to be his sister. I tried to be there for him, to love him, to pretend it did not matter that he never called, never needed me, did not know anything about me. Somewhere along the years, I let go.
I know I disappointed him because I was not what he wanted me to be. I could not be what he called “normal.” I only knew how to be me and me was never good enough for any of my family.
We did not have any huge fights, there was nothing said. There was no big decision. Just somewhere along the way I stopped trying and he slipped away from my reality. He ceased to be.
Every person has the right to determine what their life will be and who they will connect to. We have no power over what another person decides. Many of us hang on and hope. We love. We hold special love for those that have a connection that binds us, but even those connections slip away, over time.
I don’t wonder about him. I don’t search for him on line to see what he is doing. I don’t perk up if his name is mentioned and if someone asks me about him, I really have nothing to say.
He is my brother.
Turns out, a brother has no more meaning in my life than does a mother or a father. I presume I have both of those as well but I know nothing about them. I may not even know who they are. Their impact on my life was brief to non existent. People let go. They survive. People who withhold their love from you, who remove themselves from your life are probably surprised to know that eventually . . . they do not matter. They may be surprised to know you are not standing there waiting . . .
Life moves on.
And people forget you and when something reminds them, they cannot find any emotion to define who you even were. I think that makes me feel sadder than it would if I felt sad and missed him.
I feel nothing.
Aria E. Appleford 
I am a firm believer in the saying “you can pick your friends, your favourite team or your nose, but you cannot pick your relatives”. I am sorry for what seems a loss, but but it is not your loss it is his for missing out on knowing you and who you are.
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You are just saying that because you love me. Thank you.
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I once had a brother, now I have nothing. Your parents walk in front of you, your children walk behind you, but your brother should walk beside you through life. My broken heart breaks to read this. I hope for you and I hope for your brother that you can find each other, whoever you both may have become. S
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I am sorry for your loss and I thank you for your compassion for me which touches me greatly. It takes two people to have a relationship. I can stand here forever loving him and wanting one but I cannot make him ever see me. And he doesn’t.
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Yes, I truly understand, I could have written the same thing.
I also feel I could “stand here forever loving him and wanting a relationship but I cannot make him ever see me. And he doesn’t.”
I feel the same hurt, anger, frustration and despair, albeit from a different angle in the mirror.
I’m sorry you are hurting and that the one man you should truly trust in life, your brother, let you down.
It hurts. It hurts more than anything.
S
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There are no words to express my sorrow for what you have gone through. Life is so full of sorrows we never signed on for and other people have great ideas of how we should feel or cope. You are very brave to share your journey, I will make time to read it all. That you have reached out to me, your story, your blog, has great significance for me and I thank you for taking the time to comment on my posting.
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But as a good person the absence of emotion for someone you loved deeply is painful. Holding the absence of that love or engagement in their life for me feels like guilt. After all everyone should have a relationship with their parents, or their siblings. In my books at least normal people should, but like you I suppose I’ve never been that “normal”.
Love is a two-way street. And for a time you stand there in the window with the light hoping that they realize that you’re welcoming them into your life, or that you were trying so hard to stay in theirs. Eventually you do give up because you can’t live forever in the state of emotional bankruptcy. Not only does that state not create the relationship you want with your family members, but the hollowness of one-sided loving numbs you inside.
Biologically you do have parents, siblings, perhaps other family members who act less like family when it comes to relationships. Individuals who move on to thrive beyond abusive Family relationships learn how to walk away. You have to if you were going to define a life that makes you happy.
It has never made me feel good to not have a relationship with my parents, and frequently I’m ashamed as though that’s my fault. I’m on a new road with my sister who seems willing to build from both sides, now that we are both a little older and a little more seasoned. But for spell I had to say the same thing about her “I have a sister but I have no idea where she is, what her life is like and whether she’s happy or not”.
Some people think it’s about impressions or how it looks to have these kind of critical relationships not work. I’ve never cared what other people think, I just wished my closest personal relationships would have been more like you see on TV. Perhaps then I would’ve felt a little more “normal” and perhaps a little more “loved” too.
What a miracle that someone deprived of these relationships grew up to be one of the most phenomenal intuitive, intelligent and caring moms in the world. Your daughters also know how lucky they are. They grew into great Mom’s too.
Trying to have a meaningful relationship with some people is as futile as giving a worm roller skates. We accept this in romantic relationships so easily; it’s far more difficult to accept it in blood relationships because family “should” be close.
I’ve decided that’s only 100% true on TV.
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It is strangely comforting that someone else should understand how I feel. Most days I live my life without ever stepping in the crap of my past but every once in awhile I find myself standing in the midst of all the raw emotion, watching and feeling all the pain of the child I once was, with the grown up me. I want/need answers as to why. Up until very recently i laid my forgiveness on that doorstep … I suppose as some sort of last minute negotiation that might win them over. In my case it is all my family, parents who left or died, grandparents who never wanted me, and all the extended family who participated in the neglect, the abuse and the lies. While everyone walks around saying what an awesome family they all are, good christian pillars of their communities, I know THAT is a lie. But the reality is I never had a father or a mother. I never called anyone that. I was on my own at 15. And yes, they gave me shelter, clothing and food. They did that because to not do so, would have revealed who they really are.
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I understand that too. And the rational, intelligent and very adult part of you will always ask “why can I not move on from this?”. In fact, other people may ask you why you are ‘stuck’ in that emotion (not everyday to be sure… it cycles for me too and sneaks back into my happy no matter what I do periodically).
And people who love me ask me “why does it bother you so much?” or “why can’t you let it go?” <— that one is my favorite, as though I have a choice to miraculously let it go and forget it happened and I am not choosing that path.
Show me how, and I'll do it. It beats this feeling that creeps in.
I understand this feeling because I lived it too. And people tell me how great my parents are; how generously my Mother gives of her time to help others. How pious my step father is at church. How giving and loyal my father is to my sister. As the "odd one out" then surely… the problem must have been me.
But people have different relationships with different people. There is no carte blanche consistency there. One persons nightmare can be another's savior. Absolutely… and that only makes it more confusing. I mean, why did they have to be YOUR nightmare? It would have been nice to have tasted their kindness and love, rather than their fury, rejection and abuse.
It will always cycle back I think. No matter how you wrestle it. But there are those that get knocked down by the same, and never get back up. Or experience what you did… and never love. Or worse, they emulate what they were taught and become abusive, horrible adults that harm others.
You didn't. 🙂 You are the miracle because in all this planet, I have met so few people like you Aria. You creative, warm, deep, intuitive, loving, faithful, sarcastic, clever, insightful being… you strong, incredible thing.
Instead of shutting down, you became abundant. Instead of becoming vinegar you became honey to the world… you, who have no idea how much you mean to others you inspire every single week.
I don't know how to take the stinger out. I'd pull out mine and then yours if I did. But I do know that creativity, love, kindness and nurturing are miracles in the face of anger, abuse and toxic relationships. The most exceptional kind of miracle.
You are not less because that is part of your history. You are more because of the glorious rewrite … that warm place where you share a life with him, wonder existentially about the though process that spiders may have … you, who finds beauty in everything and turns the eyes of others toward it.
They lost you. And they deserved to. But who you are every day (even on the sad days) is a victory of your willpower, and your spirit. And that amazing, beautiful soul you possess.
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Thank you Lori. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I am so blessed to have you in my life and the admiration and love goes both ways.
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