The main characters in this story are my father and my older brother and this story goes back 39 years, actually longer than that if you count the four years of military school and 2 1/2 years in the Marines.
My brother is 3 1/2 years older than me, but I have never had much of a connection with him because when he went to military school, I was in sixth grade. Oh yeah, there was that time that he got blamed for pushing me on terrazzo floor and chipping my front teeth. Not sure how old I was then. Back to story...
Straight out of military school he joined the Marines. That was 1966, Vietnam, we all remember that well. He survived a little more than one TOD there and came home with much of what many of those boys came back with. PTSD, VD, who knows what addictions, it really no longer matters. Got out of the Marines and came home to find a job in the real world.
Back then, not a lot was understood about VD, just like in the early days of AIDS when not much was understood about it. People thought you could catch it from casual contact and my brother brought it into their home. Thus began a 39 year separation that finally ended this week. You see, both are stubborn men. I think it is a Scottish trait as I remember that my grandmother also suffered from holding on to things. The silence went both ways and neither would budge.
So what has happened as the result of that long split? I have a niece that is 26 years old that I have never met. She does not know most of her cousins or her relatives on her father's side of the family. And we have all lost a connection that can never be retrieved. Those years are lost, period.
Things began to change last summer. My brothers had gotten together the Christmas before, a ease in relationships. Last July. I saw my brother for the first time in 38 years when he stopped here for a few days on his way to Florida for a fishing trip with my oldest brother. On his trip down, he did visit Mom in assisted living, but Dad, who happens to live next door knew he was down but refused to speak with him. We had the opportunity to get a little closer when he and his lovely wife were here for Christmas.
In January, Dad started radiation treatment for prostate cancer on the same day that my brother had surgery to remove a malignant tumor in his throat. My sister told Dad about the surgery, and the miracles began to happen. Dad asked for the phone number and called. Reconciliation has been proceeding since that time.
So you can see why I would call this a most special moment. My brother is 60, Mom and Dad are in their mid 80's and Mom's mind is always somewhere where no one else is. It was time.
The blog contest wanted us to come up with a childhood memory. I didn't say it necessarily had to be a pleasant one, so this is my entry.
