He Ain't Heavy - He's my Brother

I have been blessed to have the 3 brothers that I have.  And one sister.  Being part of a divorced family there are usually some explanations that I have to provide about whom is who and whom I grew up with and this is about B1.

B1 is only 13 months older than I am.  In our early years we had each other through everything and we were close, tight, thick as thieves.  As very small kids, maybe 2 & 3, my mother and father divorced.  All we knew was that we didn't live with our father anymore.  Later on, my mother would remarry and we gained a new brother (B2).  While B2 had a different father, we swore we would never call B2 a 'half' or a 'step.'  (Later when my father would remarry and B3 and S1 were born, we felt the same way. Still do.  Always will.)

In 2nd grade, I was so smart that I skipped it and joined my brother in 3rd grade.  I was so happy. From then on, we had a lot of the same friends, knew all of the same people and ran in the same circles.  We never really had terrible fights.  

In our teen years we went to concerts together; crazy rock & roll shows.  Some of my favorite memories were standing in line waiting to see AC/DC, Tom Petty, Black Sabbath.  It was what we saved our money for and when B1 started working, he was always so generous in the discounts he would give me on the price of a ticket.

Then - and I remember this like it was yesterday - he went to the Navy.  I was alone without my big brother for the first time.  I missed him dearly.  We wrote each other often.  When he graduated boot camp I beamed with pride as much as my mom and just like her, I cried tears of joy to finally see him.

Many years later, with a boatload of memories we still have, we began to settle into our own lives.  Mine with my dear boyfriend who is now my dear husband and B1 with a new girl.  She seemed nice enough but there was something.  A small something that I couldn't quite put my finger on was poking me inside.  Slowly I saw my dear brother start to slip away.  He spent less time with us, less calls to the house, less visits.  As I prepared to leave San Francisco I knew that "she" had him and we lost him.  

Lots of years later there were signs of a comeback.  A couple of letters.  A phone call here and there.  A fresh start for him.  She was in the background.  Still there but no longer the presence she was before.  A new career for him sent him driving across America and when he gets back to home base he stays with our mom in Northern California.  I am thrilled for my mother to get her oldest son back.

We now have phone calls together. Some text messaging.  We even Facebooked for a while (Facebook is a whole different post).  

My father recently had a reunion with B1.  They had spoken even less in the past years than I had.  My father was over the moon to find out my brother was heading straight to his town on a Friday, my birthday to be exact. They sent me the picture you see above.  I got a little choked up when I saw it.  A combination of joy for both my father and my brother.  

And a slight tinge of envy.  Because even after all this time and our reunion of being back in each other life, B1 and I haven't seen each other in a lot of years.