Not many people realize that I have a brother and sister. We share the same dad and have only been around each other a handful of times. I remember times of going to visit my dad during the summer in Virginia and spending time with them. Most of the time, it was me and my sister that stuck together, as we were closest in age and, well, who doesn’t love to have a built-in playmate. Many days it was fun, and then other days were filled with jealousy because I wanted the attention of my dad, and so did she. I was a foreigner encroaching on her territory, and unwelcome on these days. By the time we got old enough to really hang out, my brother and sister had moved to Georgia and it was two new stepbrothers that were in the house. They weren’t near as fun and were all-consumed with baseball, and I was more interested in finding friends and boys to hang out with. (In case you’re wondering, I did a lot of that when I found a friend around my age.) Summer visits were coordinated with my brother and sister only a few times (then it was only for a day or two it seemed), so we never really had the chance to get to know each other. I know that it’s part of life, but I wish I would have stayed in touch all those years between then and now.
Fast forward to about 12 years ago when we all met up in Fort Worth for a mini family reunion. All three of us have children and it was fun to watch them all play with each other…cousins…united for the first time. It was even neater to stay up late with my brother and sister and just talk….about things that we liked, our world, memories, and whatever else we could think of. I can’t even remember much else about that trip, other than hanging out at the pool watching the kids play and staying up late into the night talking. I thoroughly enjoyed the company of my siblings…MY siblings.
We kept in touch through an occasional call, card or text over the next 10 years or so, but not like we should have. Two years ago, I contacted my step mother, brother, and sister to schedule a surprise visit for my dad. We would all meet up in Florida and surprise dad. The visit seemed like a necessity, since during the previous year Dad had been diagnosed with Dementia and the future was uncertain. So we did just that. We surprised dad. He laughted, he cried. We laughed, we cried. It was an emotional, but fun weekend. Our youngest son was able to make the trip with us and re-meet his cousins and they had a good time. The best thing out of the whole trip was a renewed relationship with my brother. This man and I are two peas in a pod, in soooo many ways. We have a lot of the same views on life, we share so many of the same emotional scars, and we share an oddly strong bond for not really ever being around each other. It literally hurt my heart to drive away from that visit…I cried.
It was after this visit that I realized that I crave my family. I crave that closeness, inside jokes, and shared memories. I crave family meals, sitting around having a beer, talking about ordinary everyday life with my family. I’ve not ever had this…and I want it. So I vowed to keep in touch….again. But this time I did better! We’ve talked and texted more in the last two years than ever before. I even scheduled another surprise visit in April, but this one was for my brother. I decided that for my 45th birthday, I wanted to spend my very first “holiday” with my brother. Can you believe that I have never spent a birthday, Thanksgiving, Easter, or Christmas with my brother or sister? I know….crazy! Well, I did a few months ago. I got to celebrate by hanging out at the ball field with my hubs, brother, and sister in law…watching my awesome niece play softball, and picking on my handsome nephew (he’s a redhead, too!). It was one of my favorite birthdays. When we left them, I cried….once again, I was driving away from part of my heart but with promises to see them soon.
That brings us to today….as I write this, we’re driving through the panhandle of Florida, driving as fast as legally possible trying to get back to my family. My hubs is one good man. He caters to my every whim and drives like its his favorite thing to do when I ask him to take trips like these. This weekend is an impromptu visit and holds no expectations, other than some beach time, hugs, laughs, and a few cold beverages. I’m so blessed that God gave me siblings, even though I grew up as an “only” in my little world. I may not have appreciated them when I was younger, but I do now. I cherish each and every moment that I have with them and with my dad. This nasty disease is claiming him a little more each day, and each time I see him I am more heartbroken than the last that I didn’t make more of “the good years.”
Sidenote: This was originally drafted on July 20th. I’m just now getting around to posting it.
My brother and me!
My brother, my sister, and me 🙂
My sister by another mister!
The seashell hunting group