A Birthday

There are certain things that when we write for others to read, it becomes like peeling an onion. For me, I’m quite upfront about my MS and how it affects my life, but I don’t constantly dwell on it. I throw in pieces about my actual life-style, the friends I meet on the journey, and a big dose of family. Some things, though, I’ve kept secreted inside me, not wanting to share with anyone.

One of these issues is the existence of another brother. I wrote about the one who died of leukemia, but there’s another one about whom I never write. That’s because I haven’t seen him in nearly sixteen years. At one time we were close, but circumstances drove us apart, and now it’s only memories. The simple fact is that he suffers from bi-polar disease – something we only learned after many misfortunes.

He grew up as a normal kid, but suffered a great loss (as we all did) when my brother died. For the rest of us, we went through the normal stages of grief, but he kept things buried, and it caused a great deal of turmoil for him. In retrospect, he probably had the manic side of the disease for a long time, thus hiding from us what was really happening.

He married and had a child, then moved to the west coast. He seemed to be living the good life, but he hid so much. In his mind, he was the beneficent son who lavished my parents with gifts; he was the jocose sibling who kept us all in laughter; he was the loving husband and father who doted on his family. Funny – we all loved being around him, and we admired his accomplishments.

With bi-polar, the highs can only last so long, and he soon came crashing back to reality, and into depression. He ended up losing his wonderful job, got in trouble with the law, and ended up back east and in therapy. That’s when we learned about his disease, but also how it could be treated with medication. We thought he was back on track, but he kept going off the meds and getting into more problems. His wife left him and took their little boy. He had a series of relationships with women to whom he spun a string of lies. Finally, he came back like the Prodigal Son, and my parents took him in. They tried to help him, but it didn’t work. I let him live here until we found him stealing and lying again. At the point when we were going to confront him, he ran off. After several months we learned that he was living in the Midwest. The woman he found obviously cared enough to get him more help, and he seemed to be content. Recently, I’ve reunited with his son, and via Facebook, I’ve seen photos of this long lost brother. He looks well, though much older. No wonder – today is his birthday, and it’s a biggie! It’s hard knowing he’s out there, and not having any connection, but perhaps it’s the best thing for him.

So, silently, I wish him a happy birthday, and I live with all the memories of our good times.

**I’ll be off the blog for a few days…the little guy will be arriving soon and staying here while his daddy works, and mommy attends a conference. We’ll be exhausted but happy!!**

Peace,

Muff