An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

My older brother, John, died the other day at the not ripe old age of 62. He was #4 and I am #5.  I called my little bro, we checked in with each other. We realized that our memories had to be very different from #’s 1, 2 and 3. They got to see John as an infant and toddler. They have memories of him growing up. My little brother and I do not have good memories of our childhood with John. He was difficult, often in trouble, had problematic friends, could be manipulative and had a lot of anger. We also do not have many good memories as an adult because he had been partially estranged with intermittent interaction that wasn’t “easy”. He was not an especially good father or husband but he did try to be a good son to my mom. I decided I wanted to share the good that I do remember…… My mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer around the year 2000. He came home for the first surgery. It was a big one. Gone were her ovaries, cervix, uterus, the top part of her vagina and a good section of he...

Yesterday I talked with the daughter of my estranged brother. I hadn’t spoken to her in 15 years. It was an emotional and heartbreaking call.  That man, who makes it impossible to be in his life, is dying. Barring any tragic accident, he will be the first of the six of us to go. At the ripe ole age of 60. Anger, a two pack a day habit and enough weed to supply a small state has its way of taking its toll.  I am numb. Not sure what I feel. When I think of the little boy that was my childhood companion, my heart squeezes tight and the throat threatens to close up but that boy hasn’t existed for 50 years. He was fearless and reckless. Somewhere, I have a newspaper article of him, on some fancy bike my dad had purchased for him, jumping over 8 of his friends at a park. I think he took my fathers abandonment harder than the rest of us. It damaged us all, installing within us maladaptive life skills, but him far worse. He quickly aligned himself with kids that were getting in troubl...

Today is my baby brother's birthday. I love that man. For so many years it was my mom, he and I on our own. That little bastard learned to drive a clutch before me, threw out my Barbies and requires power tools to get him to talk. He also held me in his arms as I grieved when I received the news that my then husbands illness was terminal (misdiagnosis but the emotions were the same). He is solid and trustworthy and quite a wonderful man. His inborn mechanical abilities are enviable. Despite the fact that our father left us for the last time when I was 12 and he was 11, he seemed to know about engines, building, cars and being a father (perhaps he had a little help from his wife on that). Happy birthday bro. So grateful to know you.

A long overdue letter to my children, I have had the privilege of being called a mother for a little over 29 years. It is, in my humble opinion, the hardest, most wondrous title a person could ever achieve. The gains have far and above outweighed any losses. I suppose the losses might be considered the time and emotional effort put into the job, but even those things have had their bonuses; molding me into a kinder, more patient and more empathetic human. How lucky I am, to have made so many mistakes, yet still be loved, honored and cared for by each of you. I often lament about how much I miss my mother and her unconditional love...silly me...I have that from each of the 4 of you. Not exactly the same but beautifully crafted to allow many of the same feelings only, perhaps, with a bigger sense of responsibility on my part. Feeling like I don't want to burden you with my problems, knowing each of you has your own burden to carry. The normal issues that people your age ...

I am #5 of 6 kids and I use the term "kids" loosely. My oldest sister is 63 and my younger brother is 51. We are a tight knit group except for one. My brother John, who is 55, has been the black sheep since day one. He has been in and out of our lives and when he is in, it is usually difficult or strained at best. Our mom instilled inside of each of us an intense loyalty. She never verbalized it but it is there just the same. All four of us girls are very close and we adore our "baby" brother. And even though we love him, John is another story.  He was the one that ran with the "bad" crowd in school. He was the one that my teachers would scowl about when they heard my last name on the first day of school. He and my mom were escorted by a police officer to sign him up for the military before he came of age....it was that or juvie. Thinned skinned and negative, he has lived with nearly every one of us for a period of time, here and there. Because...