March 12, 2011
Greetings My Friend,
I am looking once again on the site where my brother’s memories are posted by people who knew him. Again my mind asks, “Who were you little brother?” Again I ponder our life long relationship, one of struggle and never being connected.
One young man writes about when the kids were younger and the family was friends visiting each other. They ate pizza while the kids watched videos and the adults played euchre. It was a ritual Friday night occurrence. The young man remembers this time fondly. He also remembers a time when they all went canoeing. My brother stopped in the middle of the lake and drank in the scene and acknowledged God’s wonderful creation. The young man then notices my sister-in-law coming by afterwards. He called her my brother’s “one flesh.” At this point I realize my brother’s love of Jesus. My heart skips a beat and I am overjoyed. To be honest I did not know of his faith journey.
We celebrated Christmas for many years in my first marriage with my brother and his family along with Mom and Dad. Through the years after the divorce I heard the niece and nephew comment on what a good time the Christmas celebration was. Even my sister joined in on these occasions the last few years and her kids would comment on how much they enjoyed the celebrating.
Oh, there was the year my daughter who was the oldest cousin spent the afternoon playing with the youngest niece in the bathroom with her foam blocks. They had them stuck on the bathroom wall all over the place….such a wonderful memory. The girls are in hardly any of that year’s pictures they were squirreled away so long in the bathroom.
On occasion, I struggled. My brother sounded like Dad. He had that same caustic way of talking. Those moments were hard for me to hear. My insides would knot up. After I married Junior, I found moments where I’d ask my brother to stop. His feelings were hurt, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but the caustic humor was so hard for me. I was again that little girl and I had a hard time listening to it. I wanted to cry.
My hairdresser at the time knew my brother and sister-in-law. She’d tell me how funny my brother was. I remember thinking “really.” I could never see him other than a miniature Dad. I wanted to so bad and could not move out of those painful memories.
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My brother was married for 32 years. My sister and I both divorced our husbands. We did stay married for a long time but both marriages did end. Little brother’s marriage lasted and as far as I could tell for the most part they seemed content with each other. My sister-in-law called my brother “Dear.” I saw that mentioned and a lot of people started calling him “Dear.” I remember finding a tee shirt one time with the wording on it “Dear.” We gave him that shirt.
Again my heart asks, “Who were you Little Brother?” He was always helping Mom and Dad. Mostly he and my sister-in-law were cleaning up something for them. Mom and Dad had a tendency to hoard. My brother and sister-in-law were the ones to come clean up and get things back in order. My job was to go shopping with Mom and Grandma on Saturdays. We did that for 20 some years. When Mom could not go, it was my job to take Grandma. At the time my thinking was “charity starts at home.” I felt this was my contribution, my offering of sorts.
When Mom had a heart attack, she had a second one in the hospital. She called me and later commented that if she wanted something to happen, she’d call me. She felt the staff wasn’t listening and by calling me, I showed up and started talking till someone listened. Mom’s comment was if you need something done, then call the most hyper people you know, they will get the job done. We each seemed to have our roles. Mom often called me and I listened a whole lot too. Those were my assigned jobs.
Little Brother, we both had our roles, so why were we not able to connect better? Actually, Little Sister, why is there that tension between us? Why as a family did we all have that tension? The questions come and again the person is gone, hard to find answers when they are not here. It is all so very sad.
Loved ones…..I love you…..I am different and that is hard for us both…..I am who I am and I love you, each one of you in your own way. I am sad for the pain that feeling of….I hurt because we can’t seem to go beyond it. Please know that even if we aren’t talking….I do love you. I pray for a day we can overcome the divide……
The only way I’ve been able to get up and face each day is Jesus. He hears my tears the ripping in my heart. He comforts me, strengthens me and helps me get up and out that door each and every day. He teaches me to love even if the one absent won’t accept my love. He teaches me to quite my spirit, my heart and in that I find myself moving forward.
Again I ask, is there someone in your life you need to re-open the door to?
May God bless you and keep you, make His face to shine upon you.
Love
Janet
1 comment:
Janet - this message expounds with your love for your family and the desire to understand why they think and act different than you. Very well written.
My dearest Janet, your life reminds me so much of the Passion flower. Each day you open yourself to the glorious sun and when the first shadow emerges you close up to protect yourself from harm until the next sunrise and a bloom appears again.
You so desire to bloom 24 hours and experience every moment, but it is not what God had planned for you. There are many flowers that close themselves to darkness, but I think of you as the Passion flower because of your faith journey. Below is a description of why it is called the Passion Flower and why I chose it. What is missing is the Cross - your life is the cross.
We will never fully understand anyone except perhaps our self. Oh, the therapist tells us this and that about why someone may act the way they do. They help provide clues, but we are unique little treasure maps and only God knows what wealth lies within us. However, souls still continue the quest to seek answers. Why, because they want to experience the riches that another human being offers; the knowledge, the love, the affection, the joy and even the sadness that lies within them, the searcher wants to feel it and understand it.
You are a searcher. You want to explore and understand and are not content with just blooming for a few hours each day. However, because of the seeds that were planted years ago, when the shadows are cast, your bloom cocoons to protect it’s petals from the dark moments. Your cross feels heavy and your are weary.
Janet, so many of us are not searchers. We do not need to explore and are content to not know why. Life is easier when you just live each day and not seek the answers that lie within someone’s inner soul. It just gets too complicated with many false clues and road blocks. I am not saying that you do not need to continue to search. It is who you are, but you will continue to come up against obstacles and unanswered questions.
My prayer for you is that with each passing day, your cross becomes lighter and may the shadows of the day be less. I pray that in searching for answers, the knowledge of the Truth, which is our Lord Jesus Chris, reigns over you and bring you the wisdom and love you so desire.
The Passion Flower
• The pointed tips of the leaves were taken to represent the Holy Lance
• The tendrils represent the whip used in the flagellation of Christ
• The ten petals and sepals represent the ten faithful apostles (less St. Peter the denier and Judas Iscariot the betrayer)
• The flower’s radial filaments, which can number more than a hundred and vary from flower to flower, represent the crown of thorns
• The chalice – shaped ovary with its receptacle represents a hammer of the Holy Grail
• The 3 stigmas represent the 3 nails and the 5 anthers below them the 5 wounds (four by the nails and one by the lance).
• The blue and white colors of many species’ flowers represent Heaven and Purity
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