Family Gaps

My brother and I had an extended conversation on the phone today. That may not seem unusual, but for us, it was extraordinary. We probably haven’t said 50 words to each other in the past decade. That includes this past summer, when we were both in attendance at our nephew’s lovely wedding. It includes the time when my sister-in-law was terminally ill, and the time after she passed. It even includes the years since our own mother’s funeral.

Weirdly, it’s not as if we had a falling out, or there was some dramatic schism in the family. I had just been under the impression that he did not consider me an actual family member. (Red-headed step-child syndrome, don’t ya know.) Apparently, he just didn’t know if I wanted him in my life. So, whenever we’ve interacted, we’ve always been reasonable and pleasant, but there did not seem to be any vestige of the connection we once had when we were children.

And then the man reached out.

He met with my kids first, revealing to them some of the hell he has been through in recent years. Ultimately, what I learned is that while I was on my side of the chasm feeling alone and without family, he was on his side, feeling much the same. Wha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-t?

I am both happy and sad, appalled and compelled, fearful and exhilarated. Turns out each of us was standing on the edge, not realizing the other was just on the other side. Here’s to bridging the gaps.