Relationships and me???

Today, I am going to attempt this ... I am rather nervous sitting here putting my thoughts out there to be read. I am not even sure that my thoughts would even be interesting to anyone else, and I am going to start with something very personal to me. So here I am, 29 years old, working in an office every weekday, married for almost 10 years, and a mother to two beautiful children. But all parents say that --- don't they? We are all a little bias on our children's qualities, but that is not what is on my mind today.

I have been thinking quite a bit lately on the relationships and interactions in my life. Recently, my cousin blogged about his relationship with his brother. Strangely, it was awkward reading this because -- well, I can completely understand. I am sure that the reasons are different --- but I knew exactly what he was saying. I suppose a little background is in order for this to make complete sense. I was born in Kingston, New York. Most of my family was still living in the area -- both sides of the family. My mother and father divorced when I was 5 or so, and for a few years I bounced back and forth on weekdays and weekends. Dad remarried. Then, in 1987 my mother reconnected with a long lost friend (Jerry) and decided to move to North Carolina. Now, the bouncing became tedious and even more "fun" (please note there is sarcasm there). Mom and dad's relationship was never easy after the divorce and this move just meant more bickering and arguing. So now I bounced on holidays, school breaks and summer vacations. Mom and Jerry married in 1988. Okay so, now that is out of the way I can explain the sibling relationships. Mom had two sons (Sean and Danny) before she married my father. My father had a son (Bobby) and a daughter (Kelly) before he married my mother. Age wise, Danny was the closest to me in age and he was 8 years older. Needless to say, I always felt like I was a nuisance and a bother growing up. I didn't fit in with any of them. Then I had the addition, I had my two step-sisters from my step-mother, and the unimaginable list of step-siblings from my step-father (short list 5 step-brothers and 3 step-sisters). NONE of these were - again - even close to my age. I grew up basically feeling like an only child. I never quite figured out how to relate to any of them and even to this day I feel like a child trying to talk to them.

Danny lived with us in NC. Of course I was just the goofy kid and he was the teenager. We never meshed. He had problems - drug and alcohol addiction. He ended in jail when I was in middle school for armed robbery. After I graduated high school and moved to college, and he was released, we started to get to know each other. Still, he felt like an acquaintance instead of a brother. I have one good memory of Danny from that time -- just a night that we hung out. Soon after that, I had to leave school due to medical problems. I met my husband, got pregnant, got married in 1997, and had our daughter. In 1999, we were blessed by the arrival of our son. Danny during this time went through a distancing with the family. At times, he seemed to be doing well, and then he ended up back in jail again. He was released and seemed to be doing well again. Looking back, it is sad to say that he was never really a part of my life -- and then we started seeing the signs -- the writing on the wall -- Danny was heading for another relapse and deep down I knew that this time ... it was going to be bad. I did not want my children going through the pain at such and early age of not having their uncle around, so I backed away. I choose to cut him out of my life. Three years past - our children were 5 and 3 -- it was September 5, 2002. I had just interviewed for a TA position at a local elementary school. I walked out feeling great... feeling like I had aced the interview. I stopped by the grocery store on the way home, picked up some lunch items and headed back to the house. I didn't feel well after lunch, my head started to hurt. I laid down to sleep it off, and I was woken up by the phone. It was my mother... she was driving to New York to visit with my brother, Sean and his family, she didn't say "Hi Colleen!" -- she said, "Let me speak to Richard". This was odd to say the least and I asked her what was wrong -- "Just let me speak to Richard." So I called Richard and handed the phone to him --- both of us with perplexed expressions on our faces. His expression started to fade, and I just kept quite. I knew something was wrong. I remember him saying "okay" and handed the phone back to me. He just stood there as my mother told me,
"Jerry went over to Danny's and the note we left him was still on the door. He felt that he should go in but I had him call the police to escort him in. When they opened the door they knew something was wrong. The police went in and they found a body. We don't know if it is Danny. Please go and be with Jerry. I can't be there and I need you to be with Jerry." We took the kids over to my mother-law's work. They did not need to be there. Shock was just washing over me. What had happened? We stood there with police cars. They were not sure who was in the condo. They would not let any of us in. The person who was in there had been dead for at least a week. In North Carolina, in August, with no AC in the condo. Finally, I remembered a tattoo that Danny had gotten to cover a scar he had received in prison. A black and white bird of paradise -- on his upper arm. The office went into the condo and returned with a clear plastic evidence bag with a piece of paper in it. The tattoo allowed them to identify Danny's body, and they were bringing me his suicide note to read. It sounds harsh and cliche' --- he was depressed, he was an addict and all the lies he had convinced himself of were right there in his handwriting. In that moment, I regretted the decision I had made, and I didn't regret it. I was confused, but resound in the fact that my children would not feel the pain that I was feeling. I had to call mom. She was finally at my brother's house and that she had family to support her.

Mom, they were not sure. I told them about the tattoo. Mom, its Danny. He's gone.

She was adamant that she was going to drive back home... she had to see him. The officers informed me that there was no way the M.E. would allow that due to the condition of the body. My mother, distraught and I am sure full of guilt, continued on... she was getting back in the car. Finally, we convinced her that this was a terrible idea. She was a basketcase and driving 11 hours and 600 plus miles was completely out of the question and we finally got her to stay there... we would bring Danny to her so that his ashes could be placed with our grandfather. I was strong the entire time, and when I wasn't Richard was there to hold me up and keep me going. I had to be --- for mom. I had my moments. Finally, after all was said and done ... we were back in NC and I started to process everything that had happened. The decision I had made was right for my kids. They were too young to really understand what had happened and as they have gotten older, I have been able to help them understand when they have questions. For me, it was not so cut and dry. Questions still run through my mind. He had taken the time to mention me directly in his note. He had thought about me - in his last statements, moments before he knew he would be dead... he had thought about his little sister. He did not mention my abandoning our relationship. He had said that I would be better off with out him. Could I have changed that by being a better sister. I had been thinking about myself. I just could not go through watching him in prison again. I had gone through years of weekend visitations behind the tall barbed wire fences. I just could not watch him destroy his body and mind with the drugs and alcohol. I know that the decisions he made were his, but to this day, I mourn the fact that I will never truly know my brother. I mourn the fact that he will never be there as an Uncle.

I am still horrible at my relationships with my other siblings... some I believe are a lost cause -- simply because the relationships with step-siblings were never there to begin with. I am trying to do the same with many other family members -- I am not a great personal relationship communicator -- which means I am not always a great daughter, sister, cousin, neice, or aunt. I am trying to recify this shortcoming though, and it is a great hope that I will be able to know those who are supposed to be closest to me.