Time After Time

For whatever reason, I still cannot shake this current cycle of dreams and memories of my brother. As I've said before, it's been well over eight years since I've seen him and we never had much of a relationship as adults. When we were with each other, our relationship was toxic and physically and emotionally destructive. That doesn't negate the feelings I have for him.

From afar, I love him. We are both products of a severely dysfunctional family. I chose a path of health and he has not. But I still care deeply.

Also as I said before, he's a complete stranger to me now.

With the memories and dreams, I can't help that my heart is breaking and I am fully immersed in the grieving process.

This weekend was his 39th birthday. It's never forgotten. It's the same day as my husband's childhood friend/best man at our wedding. They share the same name and same birthdate.

Even though he's not much younger than me, I still helped raise him. I was there for him when he was hurt as a small child. And that was a lot of the time. I was the one who made sure he was fed, had clean clothes that fit, and his homework was done.

I know I've shared this before, but it's heavy on my heart again.

In 1983, Cyndi Lauper's song "Time After Time" hit the late night videos. At all of eight years old, the words of the song seemed to accurately describe how I felt about my brothers.

"If you're lost you can look and you will find me."
"If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting."

I know this song isn't exactly about being there for your brothers, it's about a relationship. Maybe I didn't know quite everything at eight years old. What I did know is that when I sang the song to my brothers, it was comforting to them.

The words were valuable. In those moments when we all felt the world spinning out of control and completely alone, there was comfort in brief moments of quiet.

Now there is a commercial which plays often with a cover of this song. The memories flood back each time it comes on tv.

Our relationships all eventually fractured. We were pitted against each other. We also learned it was survival of the fittest. We all learned to fight for ourselves and against each other. It's a natural response when you are fighting for your life.

Despite what I've said, I believe I've held onto some faint hope of reconciliation with my brother. Now, realizing he's been a stranger to me for far longer than eight years, I'm finally being forced to let go.

Do you know how badly that hurts? To know you have a sibling who is living and breathing, but you must grieve them as if they are dead?

It's not the same as just being estranged or having a strained relationship with a sibling. I have that with my other brother. No, it's completely different. This is a loss. A loss that is far harder to understand than any death.

For the past month, I wished away these memories and dreams about my brother. Now I understand it's my mind and hearts way of letting go and moving on. I'm finally letting go of that tiny bit of hope which was buried deep inside me.

I'll always love him, much in the way I love others I've lost.