the indictment

My brother is dead and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

My mother knew of his circumstances for two weeks before she told me.

Thanks Mom.

Good old Mom.

There's a reason, a lot of pretty good reasons, why my brother didn't want to be found for twenty years.

My Dad didn't want to be found for twenty years either.

Disappearing and cutting yourself off from your family does not "run in our family".

No one on either side of my family ever disappeared except my brother and my dad.

What did those two men have most in common that they were steering clear of?

My Mom.

Neither of them had a problem with their little daughter/little sister Courtney.

They didn't love me enough to come see me and run the risk of seeing her though.

No, they didn't.

Do you remember that I ran away and lived in a cabin alone at seventeen?

At that time, my other choice was to live with my mother alone in Chicago and finish at my same high school, but I didn't want to be around her either.

So I tried to get away from her too, but I am so much more soft hearted than they were about it.

When first my father and then many years later my brother told her that they were leaving and she'd never see them again, they meant it.

When my mother decided to come to Minneapolis to live closer to me and her grandchildren, I made a joke about how, "when you run away, the people you ran away from are not allowed to follow you".

But she did follow me.

And I have gone to church with her, I've made Thanksgiving dinners, Christmas dinners, Easter brunches.....

...every time swallowing my bitterness as she criticizes my body, my hair, my cooking, my "music career" which she always says with her sarcastic mocking laugh.

Okay, sorry but it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.

Maybe if I had seen it all differently, if as a young girl I could have understood that she broke my father's heart by cheating on him with his best friend, bailing on him when he needed her most, if I could have stopped believing her and believed him instead, maybe I would have been able to save my brother.

My brother could have trusted me because as it was I was being loyal to her, thinking our dad was bad, and my brother was saying, "oh my God don't you see that she drove him to this?"

But no, I didn't see.

So when my brother came around, I tried to "put him in a program" for "people like him".

What the fuck was I thinking?

My husband was a doctor and we had access to all these "great programs" for "people like him".

He went to one near our mother's apartment in Chicago when he was forty and had exhausted all his other options.

I went to see him there.

Well, wait, now I'm telling you what my Sidney book three is about, so never mind.

Anyway, I probably ruined my brother's life by siding with our mother.

We were in agreement from way back in our childhood that she was mean, but I loved her and I saw her as the victim of everything that had happened in our family, I felt sorry for her, I was protective of her, and she liked it that I saw it that way.

But I was wrong and my brother was right all along.

I was loyal to my mother at my brother's expense and that has proven to be a tragic error in judgement.

My Dad and my brother are both dead and it took them dying for me to see the light.

Fuck.

All there is to do about it now is to keep writing my Sidney stories.

And keep being me.

And keep being kind to everyone, even Mom.

Rest in peace and please forgive me Bradley John Dundon.

You were right all along.

Comments

Blake D. October 27, 2018 @11:47 am
I'm sorry about all that. Your words are rife with bitter raw honesty, contrition, and regret. Your words are moving--they moved me. Your words are powerful and, I pray, cathartic.
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