“I was mad at them,” my brother continued in explanation, “I was mad at everyone. I thought I was alone in dealing with everything because they were gone. I thought no one would help with the money needed for the burial, for raising you, for any of it.”
“But the truth was – the help was there for my asking. I was just too proud.”
As he spoke, I know he spoke the truth. I knew that as much as he wanted to succeed – in being the dutiful son, the responsible guardian, the savior – he was doomed by the very thing that gets the best of most of us… his pride. I can even picture his pride being his undoing. Add on to that his own weakness, and my brother didn’t stand much of a chance living up to the expectations he put on himself.
I can see that now. I see it in this older, tired version of the brother I knew as a child. As he sits across the room from me in his hospital gown with machines all around him monitoring him, I can see how hard he tried, how sadly he failed, and how deeply he regrets.
But life moves on. Regrets get us nowhere in life. Neither does anger. As I sit across from my brother listening, just listening, I know this to be true. I don’t have it in me to be angry anymore. Or to feel loss at what my life would’ve been like had our parents lived. Because I moved on a long time ago.
There are so many things I thought I would say to my brother during a visit like this, so many things I thought I needed to say. But I don’t need to say them anymore. I am blessed, truly blessed in life – for so many reasons. And it’s enough. It’s enough for me to look across at this man and know that I can try to be a sister to him, if only because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t have to give anything more than I want. And it’s enough.
Posted by mmkeekah 
