 |
||
| My Brother's Road 2004, March 14 - 11:48 p.m.
Another entry today! This is a rare thing for me. But I have been thinking about my brother. He�s an interesting person and not easily understood. He�s my only sibling and was a tack in my ass throughout my entire childhood. I used to think I hated him. I used to wish he lived with Dad so I�d only have to see him once a week. This little shit used to make this thing I will only call "The Noise." He perfected The Noise down to a science. It was a sound that to this day when I hear it I feel like committing extreme forms of violence. Sad but true. Only my close family members remember anything about it and yet only Jamie is capable of doing it exactly. He hasn�t done it in years. The last time he did it, we were in a car with my mom, my Aunt Debbie and her son Shaun. Shaun sometimes likes to stir the pot and he asked Jamie out of the blue, "Hey Jamie, remember when you used to make The Noise?" and Jamie got all excited and made the Dreaded Noise. I swear this is true: I watched my hand form a fist and fly past Shaun's face and into Jamie's mouth. I couldn't even believe it. Shaun couldn't believe it and Jamie couldn't believe it, until he did and tried to kill me while Shaun held him back. Thank God we were parked. To this day, Aunt Debbie asks me if I remember the day I sucker-punched Jamie. Oh, I do, I do remember. Perhaps I had some pent up rage about The Noise. Anyhow, he would think up new ways to make me crazy and one that sticks out in my mind is how he used to bug me in the rec room. See, I was big on drawing. My dad would bring me stacks and stacks of clean, white paper from his work and I would pile it all on my lap and draw series and sequences of recurring characters. I had plots and villains and everything. I loved every moment of it. That is until Jamie would come downstairs and march around making The Noise, just because he could. I was loaded down with paper and it made it difficult to get up and go get him so I would cringe and try to ignore him. If after about half a minute he didn�t get the response he wanted, he would turn off the TV and the lights and leave me in the dark, weighed down by masses of paper. Once I got re-grouped, he would come back downstairs and do it again. Little shit. Back in those days, he was starved for attention. He craved it. He would squirt me with a super soaker while I was reading to get it, he would run up and push me at school while I was talking to my crush when I was in grade 8. He would play the shadow game and copy my words, read my diary and follow me at the park. Now he lives alone and is secretive. He called me today, rather Dad called me and handed the phone to Jamie. He visits dad from time to time. I asked all kinds of questions and told him all sorts of things but he gave me precious few answers. Except that he says he hasn�t applied to college. I can�t manage his life and I can�t tell him what to do, but I can�t stand seeing him make bad decisions. Maybe it�s the curse of the oldest child to feel this way, maybe it�s because after Mom died, I tried to fill her place for him. Maybe it�s because everyone was right when they told me that when we grew up, I'd realize how much I loved him. Either way, I�m so disappointed and angry at him. I mean, he has his inheritance and it�s more than enough for a full three years of school. He could even do more than one program. But currently he�s only using it for living expenses while he finishes high school. Then what? I mean, his job only pays so much and if he keeps living on the allowance from his inheritance that he is currently living on, it will run out. He can afford to go now, he can afford to figure his life out and make mistakes now. He can afford to take something and then change his mind now. I doubt he will later. His frigging friends all drink and smoke and do drugs. Lord knows if he is doing drugs too, but would they be his friends if he didn�t? I mean, he really needs to get out of his rut in K-Town, get in a new city, begin his life and meet new and interesting people. Motivated people. I feel like he is meant for better things than serving drinks and food a few times a week and then getting high with his buddies the rest of the time. If mom was alive, this wouldn�t have happened. It just simply wouldn�t have happened. She wouldn�t have kicked him out of her home. She would have made certain he applied somewhere. Neither of us may have had the money to make mistakes, but Jamie would have been on a better path. At least I think so. I don�t know what motivates him, I don�t know what he�s feeling or what he wants in life. I have no idea what is important to him. He won�t talk to me. He won�t share. I feel like we�ve switched places, like I am the one bugging him and he is the one trying to ignore me. I�m trying to understand that what he chooses to do with his life is his decision. When close family members make bad choices, it can affect everybody. I know from experience that family members can become burdens who borrow money and make heavy demands on you that exceed what you can or would be willing to give. I don�t want a burden in years to come. I want a brother. Thank You - 2006, June 7
|
|||