TheBanyanTree: Siblings

[Monique]

Brothers. Sisters. Those who share the same parents. What's with them,
anyway? Maybe my family's just twisted.

Wait. Of course my family's twisted. That's not news. 

I have an assortment of siblings. Younger, older, male, female, different
parents, same parents. With only one of them do I share the same two
parents. With everyone else I share one parent or the other, or none at all.
(With those I share neither parent with, there's not much communication
anymore.) 

And the one that I share the same two parents? It's like we're from
different planets. Different universes. Different realities. He's a boy and
I'm a girl, and that's the most obvious difference. He's taller. 6'7" or
something unreasonable like that. He's had the same job working for the same
oil company all his life. Well, not all his life. Since he started working
in high school. Started at a gas station pumping gas. Went through college
while working at that gas station. Then went to work for the oil company
that owned the gas station. He's been there ever since, it's all he's ever
known. He's moved up throughout the years. I'm not sure what he does.
Something to do with sales and marketing, and he travels frequently, often
to Asia. 

A couple of years in a job for me and I'm ready for a change. 

He has two children and two stepchildren. And two stepgrandchildren. And
he's younger than I am. How can that be possible? I still haven't decided if
I want children or not. (Okay, that particular train has already left the
station, but that's beside the point.) He's stable, responsible, and
conservative. And we don't particularly get along. But he's still my
brother. 

Sorta.

Well, there is a family resemblance, so I'm assuming so.

He wants nothing to do with me, for the most part. My mother says that's
just Mike, that he really does love me, yada yada yada. I'm not buying it.
I've made too many efforts to be convinced of that. 

It's not surprising, based on our family dynamics. Look in the dictionary
under "dysfunctional." See the picture? That's my mom and dad and their
respective spouses (three others for her, two others for him), my oldest
dead half-brother who killed himself when I was 18, my oldest half-sister,
who had this oldest brother as her sibling to share the same two parents and
who was completely ignored by her mother after her parents split up, me, my
brother, my younger half-sister who shares none of my siblings except Mike
with me, my younger half-brother that I share a dad with, my stepmother's
(dad's third wife) three kids, my mom's 4 stepkids. Gone forever are my
mom's ex-stepkids. She divorced their dad, so even though my half-sister is
still their half-sister I figure they're too far removed anymore to be
anything at all to me. 

Anyway. When I was a sophomore Mike was a freshman. And sometimes we'd walk
to school together. Until my charming stepmother told him not to hang around
me anymore because it did absolutely nothing for his reputation but make him
look bad. (Gee, thanks mom.) 

He had problems with her also, but since she loved boys and despised girls,
I had a few more. And he so much wanted her approval. I don't know why, it's
obviously something I didn't spend much time looking for. Or so she would
say. If she weren't dead. 

Anyway. At one family gathering several years ago (a rare occurrence, and
not all that likely to happen again) Mike and his wife were railing about
the nerve of some charities asking them to donate their old vehicles. "Why
would I do that? Why would I give away something when I can sell it?"
Listening to them bitch about how no one should be asking them to give
anyone anything made me sick. Of course, it's not just them. The whole
family's like that. "It's mine, dammit, and no one's getting it from me for
FREE!" I'm appalled at their attitude, at their selfishness, at their entire
life philosophy. Then again, I am the smart one, aren't I? 

Well, they're still my family, and Mike's still my brother. So when my Dad
told me on Friday, during a traditional holiday telephone call (I can't call
him very often -- I always end up depressed afterwards) that Mike was having
surgery tomorrow on his HEAD I sort of wanted answers. This was my dad's
version: something genetic, affects his head, his brain, his eyes, his legs,
he wasn't really clear. Surgery: in the hospital for four days, then
recovering at home for a month. Great. My brother's having brain surgery and
no one thinks I need to know. I couldn't get any other information from my
father because after that he needed to talk about himself for an hour. No
special reason. Just likes to keep me updated on his bowel habits and the
status of his lack of a bladder, which certainly isn't anything new. (How
many years since his surgery?)

So I emailed Mike. Demanded to know what was going on even though he doesn't
want to have any kind of relationship with me. Told him he's my brother
anyway. 

At least I did get a response from him. Today. The day before surgery. No
details. I have no idea what's wrong with him, or what he's getting fixed.
He said: "The surgery is not considered high risk for someone of my age a
health even though the hospital stay and recovery time are significant.  The
problem is if I don't have it taken care of now it could cause me
significant health problems later in life.  I explained this to Dad and Jeff
but Dad usually chooses to avoid direct questions and true understanding of
situations that are uncomfortable for him.

This is not a health catastrophe, only a pain in the ass."

As is he, as is he.

But anyway, no details from the pain in the ass with the pain in the ass
(who's having brain surgery tomorrow for some unidentified genetic reason),
but at least THIS email wasn't in the usual format that I usually get, if I
get anything from him, which is to say: it wasn't written entirely as if it
were written to a business colleague. 

I told him to let me know how he's doing. Not that he will, but I am, after
all, the good sister. 

And do you think if someone is walking around with some genetic brain
problem they could mention it to the one person who shares the same two
parents? DO YOU THINK? No, of course not. But that's irrelevant. 

I don't know why he doesn't like me. I'm nice. I'm charming. I'm funny.
Slightly insane, and that's probably the problem. He's quite insane, in the
rigid responsible closed way that means he'll eventually explode. Me? I'm
just a nut. 

Maybe that's why the surgery? To keep the explosion to a minimum? 

Monique