I got the call that my oldest brother was in the hospital and quite ill. He’s been there for a few weeks. The family was uncertain if I’d want to know, given the history between my brother and me.
I can’t fault them.
I was driving home when I got the call and learned he was at a local hospital, which just happened to be on my route home. Without thinking, I exited the highway and headed towards the hospital. My mind was blank, except for one thought, was I really going to do this? I didn’t know for sure until I was at the hospital inquiring about his room if I was going to actually see him. Even as I rode the elevator to the floor he was on, I wasn’t sure if I could actually go in. It wasn’t until I was at his room that I knew for sure I was going to go in. Even then, after I opened the door, I hesitated.
The curtain was drawn around his bed, but I could hear his voice as he talked to his wife. I paused, breathing deeply, and then walked purposefully into the room. I peered around the curtain and said, “Hello?” The first thing I saw was my brother – older, more frail, less hair – and then I saw his wife. Both looked at me and froze. A second or two passed and still shock had both of them locked in its grasp. I said nothing at first but finally then, “I heard you were sick. I came to visit.”
The spell was broken and my brother began struggling to get out of his chair. Tubes protruded from his gown, and as he unsteadily tried to get to his swollen feet, he awkwardly pushed the tubes out of his way. I went to his side and grabbed his arm to help him, scared at how frail he seemed. His hand reached out and grabbed my arm to steady himself, and he kinda half fell into my body. I reached with my other arm around him, once again to steady him. Then he was hugging me, his body shaking as tears fell from his eyes. His embrace was strong and sure, contrasting the fraility I sensed.
“You look like dad,” I said. He continued crying. ”It’s okay,” I said to him, or maybe more to myself. I don’t know.
I was there. To visit. It was enough.
You have the heart of a lion. Enough said.
My heart is strong, tis true. But I almost cried at your comment. I am just me. I don’t know how else to be… Thanks, Bren. Miss you!
My father, who I hadn’t talked to or seen in a couple of years, called me the day he went in for open heart surgery. Probably in case he died.
I packed up my son, some clothes, and my very pregnant self and drove three hours to the city where his operation was taking place. I imposed myself on my in-laws and went to the hospital twice a day to see my dad.
There are a lot of burned bridges between him and I. Plenty of reasons that we hadn’t spoken for such a long time and why I didn’t care if I never spoke to him again.
During the week that I was there visiting I could tell he didn’t want me there. He hardly acknowledged that I was making an effort to be supportive of him.
I haven’t spoken to him now in nearly three years, and I doubt I ever will again. Too many old wounds for me to overcome if he’s not at least going to make an effort.
Anyway, I can relate to this post. I’m somehow glad that your brother was pleased to see you.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
Shasta, I am sorry you can relate. I feel for you and thanks for sharing…
Shasta, I should add that my brother has made contact in the past, most recently a few months ago. Perhaps he wanted a reconciliation. While I was never rude, I also wasn’t exactly welcoming either. So many old wounds, as you said.
I don’t know what the future will bring but the visit, it felt right. I am holding on to that feeling even as I’m writing more posts…
you made me cry.
what a gift you have given your brother…and yourself.
Heidi – thanks. I hope you still feel that way after you read tomorrow’s blog.
Hold onto that feeling. Even if the two of you never *really* reconcile, at least you have a few good moments right now.
My dad has called me every year at Christmas time over the past three years. I never bother answering. I won’t indulge his need to dump another load of his guilt onto me.
I do hope that your brother gets well
*Hugs*
Shasta