Family Found-Part 2....The New Baby

As I sit here trying to gather my thoughts about my brother, David....I find my thoughts pinging around inside my head like a pinball machine. The logical thing to do is tell the story from the beginning. This is where the story gets, for lack of a better word, weird. Truly, there needs to be another word that covers all aspects of this crazy, amazing, miraculous thing! The first time I spoke to my father was on the evening of June 27. We discussed David and I suggested that he mention me to him before I just barged into his life. I tend to be a 'both feet' jumper, so although I told my Dad that I would give him time..I actually gave him until the next morning because I just couldn't stand to wait another second to talk to my brother. I sent him a private message on Facebook that began with, "Well, Hello BROTHER!...". I can only imagine how that must have felt to wake up to a message like that. I saw that David had read the message...but then nothing. Crickets chirping...for a few hours. It was torture. He was a complete stranger who could have chosen to never, ever responded to that message. Instead what I got (6 agonizing hours later) was a very sweet and uncertain response saying that he was excited to get to know me and that he couldn't get the cheesy grin off his face. We chatted back and forth for a couple of days before either of us got the nerve to call each other. I don't know why it took so long, I suppose there was a fear on both sides of rejection or more heartache. Remember, we are missing one of us. Our brother Scott, who took his own life in 2001. David had to endure that loss without me...and while I can never know the extent of my family's grief, because I didn't know Scott, I still feel the hole in my heart that is left by his absence...but that story is for another blog. Back to the 'baby'. The first night that my brother finally called me we spent about 4 hours on the phone. It was like we were both 16 again talking to our new bff's. I think we covered all the silly and superficial stuff anytime we would start to stall in the conversation. Favorite food...Mexican. Favorite Candy bar...Hershey's with almonds...Surf or Turf...Turf, always! It just went on and on like that for 4 solid hours. Instant, strange connection. Same laugh...same face....same smart mouth & 'Don't give a fuck what people think' attitude...weirder and weirder with every single conversation. When we finally hung up that first night, I was on cloud nine! I was recounting all the things we had talked about to my husband and at one point he said to me, 'it's like you have a crush, or are in love'. My response was- 'You bet your ass I have a crush! I AM in love with my baby brother!! How could I not be?' It was the craziest burst of love and emotion that I have ever felt, second only to giving birth to my two boys...It's that kind of love. Instant unconditional love, instantly protective like a mama bear. Instantly heartbroken for all that the boys endured without their big sister there for support... this is where my heartache comes from... not being there for them when nobody else was either. Scott and David weren't alone entirely, they have another half sister from their Mother. It would seem that her life wasn't really any rosier than the boys'. The other thing I should note is, I think my grandmother told me about the boys' sister. I think she called her Chrissy. I was always under the impression that I had a sister and a brother, Chrissy and Scott, but I never knew about David. I want to take a second to clear something up. The 'half' brother thing...is crap. I have two 'half' sisters that I have had the pleasure of tormenting for their entire lives. I changed their dirty diapers, I taught them all the bad words, I chased them through the house with butcher knives (for fun of course...they loved it), gave them swirly's....I could go on and on but the point is that they aren't my half anything. They are my sisters, as David is my brother. Back to the story...it just so happened that I had already scheduled a trip to Kansas City, for my Mom's 60th birthday, about one week after the first phone call to my Dad and brother. It was a quick,two day trip home to see my family and now, all of a sudden, my family had grown...and I was torn. How could I go back and NOT see these guys? How could I go back and see these guys, without hurting my mom's feelings. It was, after all, her birthday I went home for. Turns out that while she was none to thrilled with the Dad thing, she was very happy about me meeting my brother. So happy, in fact, that she invited him and his wife over to her home so that he and I could actually meet in person. When I told David that I was coming and that I didn't know if we were going to be able to see each other on that trip his response was beautiful and very David. It was something like..."fuck that, you're my blood, I will see you even if it's only at the airport...". We were both surprised and nervous and happy as hell to get to meet in person. When they pulled up, I met him at the end of the driveway, away from everyone. I wasn't really sure how I would react. He was wearing sunglasses and I needed to see his eyes. My eyes. Scott's eyes. It's very strange looking at your own face on another human being. After we got past being struck dumb...we went inside so he could meet my family, which was a bit uncomfortable for him. He didn't have a close knit family growing up, it was an awkward experience for him to meet me and all my peeps in one sitting. He took it like a champ though. We exchanged pictures of our kids when they were babies...hell, we exchanged pictures of ourselves as babies, or at least younger versions of ourselves. We got to spend a few precious hours together before they had to get home. It wasn't nearly enough time, but then how can you ever make up for a 37 year absence? I don't think you can. I was a big girl when they left, I didn't cry one single tear... Until everyone went to bed that night. David and I texted for about an hour after they got home. It was comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. To be so close but so far away. I'm fairly certain I cried myself to sleep that night, and I woke up crying the next morning. The ache from missing him was so incredibly strong it made me sick. In those first few weeks we teetered back and forth between extreme happiness to anger and heartache. We have tried really hard to not let the anger and resentment take over the happiness...but it depends on the day and the topic at hand. Sometimes anger wins. We should have at least known about each other...we should have had sleep overs, birthday parties, sibling arguments...we should have been able to decide if we wanted to be in each others lives. I should have known Scott. I Should have been ALLOWED to know them and them me. I asked David to take me to the airport when it was time to leave. Our Dad and step mom were going to meet me at the airport about an hour before my flight. I asked David to pick me up about an hour and a half before that so that we had a little time before we saw Dad. It would be the first time I had seen my father in 23 years and the first time he ever saw his son and daughter together. David and I literally sat in the car in the KC airport (HELL) and purged 37 years worth of life, loss of life, loss of innocence...a lot of shit! Then we went in, hand in hand, and met our father. We sat, my brother, me and my father side by side holding hands like a lifeline. Like if one of us let go the other would disappear. I told airport security the situation and that I wasn't getting on the plane until I absolutely had to. We all three stood and hugged and said our I loves you's, which came as naturally as breathing to me. Finally, I had to go...and David was very brave. No tears that I could see. Once again, I was also very brave. After all, I didn't need to be snotting all over the strangers that I was wedged between on my flight. At one point, while I was waiting to board, I looked over and there was his sweet face pressed damn near to the glass....waving at his big Sis. Shit, that was hard. I put on my best 'We got this, bud!!' face, gave him a wave and marched onto the plane. I didn't look back. Couldn't look back. By the time I got back to Denver and got in my car in the parking garage, I was a hot mess. David had given me a precious gift before I left, a tape that our brother had made of himself singing with his band, in prison (another blog). I put the tape in...and that was it. I didn't just start crying, I was bawling like Ben Stiller in the final scene of "Something about Mary"...ugly, uuuugly cry. I probably cried until about 10:00 pm that night. My flight landed at 7. Now, I am happy to report that after 6 weeks...holy shit it's only been 6 weeks...things are calming. We are all settling in to this still new and yet familiar relationship. David and I have settled probably easier than everyone else has, because to us, this relationship is easy, natural, almost like we have been brother and sister before, in another place and time. I wish it were as easy for our loved ones...