My Other Brother



Do you have brothers or sisters or both?

I’ve got a bunch: I love them all.

We are all cookies from the same batch: it’s just the way it is.

One of my brothers died about the same age as I am now. Two days before my next birthday in January 2010 I will be the same age as him when he died.

This bothers me for some reason. It taunts me. It’s in the back of my mind lately. It’s a regret. It’s there.

Was he my favourite brother?     No.

Were we close?    No.

Did we have anything in common?    Probably a bit of the same humor and most of the genetic material, but not too much else.

Did I really like him?    No.

… but I still loved him.  ………..  love him.

Looking at this photo I realize that he’s still somewhere in my life … if only represented by a stupid birthday card from 10 years ago on my kitchen wall.

The little boy in the picture  holding a banana is captioned with:

He had only one idea, and that was wrong.”        
Benjamin Disraeli

I wish he were still alive and finally happy, but some wishes are bygones … and I’ll let bygones be bygones.


I miss not really liking him.



note: I had a different post to put on tonight, but when I saw this picture, taken by Mr. Pettit  a few weeks ago, I knew the other one could wait.

double note: a “bunch” is 6 siblings as defined by me.

triple note: when I look in the mirror I see more of him than all the rest of the rest for some reason. I’m sure my other brothers and sisters think I look most like my mother or my father. I’m not sure … I’ll have to ask them about this.


notes to myself #80

The older you get the more you actually like your brothers and sisters: they are all cool. … I don’t know how that happens either!

13 responses to “My Other Brother

  1. Here’s hoping you live 3 times longer than your brother did!

    You’re right about your note to self. I have an older brother and also a younger brother and we love getting together. They are cool.

    ~Best to you~

  2. You’ll carry him around with you for as long as you live, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s true for me that I have become closer to my brother as we both age — and age some more. Angels on our shoulders for sure.

  3. “What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.”~Pericles

    Here’s to passing age 45 by about 50 years.

  4. When I was a kid, I exalted in being an only child. It was a great way to grow up. I’m not a kid anymore… and I’ve rethought my previous position. It would be nice to have someone to call brother or sister.

    I’m sorry to hear about your brother. Anything I could type here would tend to sound trite so I’ll just say that I guess the best we can do is the best we can do.

  5. Um…my what big thumbs you have, she said, nervously.

    Brother subjects kill me but this one especially! Why? Cuz two days before your birthday in 2010, you’ll be older than he ever got. I think those thoughts ALL the time! He died at 56 and I’ll be 65 in Feb! So, I guess you’ll have these thoughts for a long time, PR. Which ain’t such a bad thing really. A way of remembering.

    Seriously, about those thumbs…

  6. Thanks for all the comments.
    I must have eaten some melancholyflower earlier in the day before putting this one on.

    S. Le: only 3 times as long!!! hee hee!
    I’m glad none of the rest of the siblings have blogs because they could probably do a better job of it than I.

    Donald Diddams: it’s funny that we’ve chosen to live a long way a way from each other for some reason. But we do enjoy getting together. My oldest sister did live in Japan for a few years while I’ve been here: that was very cool. … and the rest of the rest have visited … except one brother who really should.

    sweetiegirlz: it’s a 50/50 genetic thing … my mother’s side of the family seems to live forever, but my father’s side cark it in their early 50’s. I wish my father had brothers or sisters so I would have a better gage on that one.
    I plan on being here for a long time … I’m curious.

    Turkish Prawn: thanks. I always think that he saved the rest of us from having to have a helping of genetic baggage. He seemed to have been dealt a lot of crap that the rest of us weren’t for some reason.

    w1kkp: I noticed the thumb action as well. I usually have both tucked away: I’m not sure what was going on in this photo.

    I hope I have those thoughts for a long time.

  7. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I’m an only child of divorced parents. They remarried, and I have/had step-siblings, but none I am close to. My dad remarried 20 years ago, and I hardly know my step-mom’s daughter.

    I always say that if I had a real brother or sister, they would be my best friend. I understand this isn’t always the case with real siblings.

    I think you will live long and propser. You better! 45 is still young for a planet. hee hee!

  8. My proof reading stinks here lately.

    You won’t propser, but prosper. 😛

  9. I have days like this. It is hard because it does seem like the older you get, the more people you have known are dying. My dad died at 57. I know when I get closer to that age, I will be freaking out big time! Hope your memories hold you in peace. My memories keep me going strong. 🙂

  10. I doubt they’d do any better. I doubt anybody could!

  11. Thanks for the comments.

    I never get tired of writing that line.

    Tammy: I must be slipping because I’m not catching your typos either when I read them.
    In my family there are the “top 5” and “the 2 little ones: … or first mistake and second mistake“.
    Most of them were out of the house before I was 8 years old. We are closer now that I’ve grown up and got all mature and cool and stuff. hee hee!

    Doraz: I agree … except for the freaking out big time.

    S. Le: I’m blushing again.

  12. Survivor guilt, it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

    My father died in a motorcycle crash at the age of about 24 when I was about 3.

    I don’t remember him and I’ve never seen a photo of him (it’s a long story).

    The fact that my father died so young freaked me out as a kid and I was really worried that I wouldn’t make it to or past the same age. I think it was the reason why I was such a bad kid (my mother thought I was possessed), because I never thought I’d live that long and I didn’t care what happened.

  13. razzbuffnik: never knowing or even seeing a photo of either of my natural parents would drive me crazy: I’d make a bad adopted person.
    I don’t think I have survivor’s guilt; I just like to know where I am in relation to my relations.
    I used to mentally note how many kids my parents had when I reached certain ages … and think … they were crazy.
    but I’m glad they were crazy.

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