Yesterday, I realized that there is more bottled up emotion that I just cannot seem to release. All it took was for a nice thing to be said to me from my brother and the waterworks started. Yep, that relationship between siblings can do that to a person.
My brother and I rarely talk these days. We have different things to attend to, so that random call just to say "hi" really does not happen. Regardless of the fact that we happen to live in the same town.... as a matter of fact, just roughly six blocks apart to where we could walk to each other's house.
It has been known that I try to stay strong for others and with that attitude of acceptance that I tend to possess, I have been crying far less this past year. In fact, I happen to explain things away and brush off the need to really have an emotional release. When I did manage to cry.... it is just a tear or two that can quickly be wiped away with my fingers. Life is not supposed to be all smiles and happiness. There are real challenges that can pull some strong emotion and I know that I have been at the point where my chances of crying for myself is quite near. I thought I had it under control with reading some emotionally touching books. Crying over a sad story read is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of compassion for others. I have been a compassionate person all my life. That is why it is far easier for me to put others first and myself last. Even my compassion has its limitations.... I make crying a solitary thing when I cry for others. I take pride in being strong in front of others. I am far from perfect regarding that since yesterday's waterworks could not be controlled. It took taking the long way home to get it under control and look like everything is just wonderful so I can face my family.
After working at the salon, I took a detour in my usual route home. I made my appearance at a fundraiser for hospitalized veterans that my brother has participated in running for the past, and I am only guessing, 20 years or so. It is a cause that hold dear to my family. My father, a WWII veteran, instilled a strong sense of pride in his service to this country. Of all people to feel the pain of loss through war... it was him. He lost his only brother in the same war, but still held onto the pride of doing something for the greater good. Risking your life for others is something that is never taken lightly and sadly, is not held to a high regard by all. Back in his day, there were no fundraisers to help the injured, no special treatment when they returned home and no continual offering of thanks for a job well done, but he still took pride in his service and appreciated every person that proceeded him as well as followed him. A humble man with far too much love and compassion in his heart. I see that is where I got that trait and I hold it tightly in me. What my dad taught me was through example and he is the greatest man that ever lived in my eyes. Regardless of the times he spent hours watching documentaries about wars past, he remained grounded through his memories. I sure still do miss him....
Well, yesterday, my brother and I sat and talked.... just a little... there were far too many people to have a true heart to heart talk, but we did manage to go from a light conversation to something far deeper. I found it funny at how people he introduced me to had a hard time accepting that we are related and that I was more of a hellion than he ever was. All of that talk about family spurred on taking a moment to walk outside and have a slightly deeper talk about family. As I said earlier.... my brother and I do not talk all that much on a regular basis. He noticed that I was constantly checking the time and he wondered why. I sure as heck could not lie to him.... I did not mention my intention of making my appearance to the fundraiser straight from work with DH and I had to get home soon or the calm waters that we are currently in will turn if he has to wait too long for dinner. Since I do all the cooking, I needed to be home early enough to actually cook the meal for them. The last time I asked for assistance in dinner was the prior weekend when I forgot to put dinner in the crock pot and had to walk DH through how to do what I should have done before leaving for work. Then, I got the guilt trip that he had to make dinner and added some boasting that he is a better cook than me. When I suggested that he does all the cooking from now on, since he is such a talented cook and all, I get a nasty tone and a "don't push your luck" comment in return. I am still raw from that last fight we had and I have almost perfected my walking on eggshells bit... almost... and I really have serious doubts that I can take another fight right now. My side of the family already is strained with a spouse of a sibling and I am not sure that my family can take another one with mine. My efforts to keep the rest of my family in tact is hard enough since the death of my father, thank you, and I would be crushed if my marriage is the breaking point. Family is really all that I have left.
I just happened to make the mistake of opening up to my brother about some things and saw a side of him that I was not ready for.... a protective older brother. Growing up, the sibling rivalry changed often, but there was always one constant.... My oldest sister always took on the bossy role, my second oldest sister was the martyr and was under constant protection from her little brother (my older brother), and the relationship with my older brother was always flip-flopping between fighting and getting along. Being the youngest, I was looked as more of a bother than anything else. That hindrance of having freedom if you were expected to babysit me when I was too young to be left home alone. I looked up to all my siblings, but was never really pulled into the fold and embraced as a person. I kind of do now, but it took well over 30 years of my existence to feel like I belonged.
I think that after the talk my brother and I had yesterday, he saw a side of me that probably bothered him.... the sad, but self-reliant little sister that is too emotionally wounded to take a kind word sent her way without tearing up. He saw what years of not knowing what it is like to be appreciated turned me into. I was always looked upon as the reliable sibling, but never one to be appreciated by those that mattered. That level of appreciation beyond the mechanical response that I get for what I do instead of who I am is a rare thing. That point when someone appreciates you for who you are and what you do is something that rarely, if ever, happens to me. That sharing of what they appreciate about me is what chokes me up because it is such a rare thing to hear. Heck, I lack the self-confidence and belief in what people tell me because of that being so rare. I seriously need that so bad in my life that I started losing hope. I am seeing my life crumble in front of me because that one component is almost nonexistent. Love is not really love when it is missing parts like this. Lust is only instant gratification and that does die off in time. I should know, but the components that make love a forever thing is compassion, appreciation, and respect. You lack one and love is really no longer there... only obligation to keep trying and stay together with hopes that it gets better. Especially when you are the one that still believes that there is love somewhere and needs to be set free again. That is what I am feeling.... a strong resolve to exhaust every avenue to make things better and be rewarded for my efforts. Sadly, I am nearing the point of acceptance that this is as good as it is going to get. That love is no longer a free thing, but earned through sacrifice to always do the right thing for another.
Oh well, I have to stop here.... Time to get the grocery shopping done with the family. The whining and bickering between DH and DD is not going to go away until this mandatory family task is completed. Have a nice day everyone!
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