I could forgive the man I loved for all his indiscretions.  I could forgive my mother for abandoning me repeatedly.  I could forgive this man in Idaho who meant to hurt my child.  I could forgive myself for the years of self-hatred, but now it was an option to not forgive my brother of whose goodness I was sure of? 

It was as if I was being asked with every knife in the back, “Oh yeah?  You think you can love unconditionally?  Betrayal, abandonment, exploitation of your child, degradation of yourself, murder…can you still love?  How about now?  And now?? And now?! Can you really love with NO conditions???” 

Yes.

Anything less than true, unrestricted love would yield the same insanity as those wielding the knives (which I too had wielded at one time). Even so, loving someone does not dictate the necessity of a relationship with that person in the 3-D world.

It’s taken me decades to learn to live in this skin, in this world. To love me. An act that allows me to love another. I HAVE to protect that. At the end of the day (at the end of this life) that’s all I have. MY own love and anything it touches (or doesn’t) will be my legacy.

I was raised a Christian and though I don’t consider myself one anymore, I love the idea that maybe a man like Jesus did exist.  A man not above loving those that others would run from.  A man who showed mercy especially when it wasn’t deserved.  A man not afraid to love with such wholeness that he would speak The Truth, “Forgive them.  For they know not what they do.” 

We really don’t know what we do.

At some point I asked my love what he would do.  He said, “If he’s really trying to do the right thing, I would probably be there for him.” 

It felt like the correct way to move forward, but I would need to be sure.  Brother or not, I couldn’t stand by anything less than the truth.  I would love him from afar no matter what, but I could only be there for him physically under certain conditions.  It’s just like with a new woman in AA.  If she’s willing to put in the work, I’ll do anything I can to help.

I had an idea to meet up with my brother’s best friend to hear his experience with this whole thing.  I needed to know if he knew something I didn’t.  Anytime I talked to my brother, he wasn’t angry (and I personally hadn’t seen him angry in many years).  He was desperately trying to figure it out.  I ran the idea by my love, and he encouraged me to go for it.

I reached out to his friend, and he wanted to talk too. 

(The ripple of this event affected so many people.  A ripple of goodness does the same.)

He came over and we sat in the rocking chairs on my front porch.  We talked for a few hours that night.  He had questions of his own.  All in all, he had the same experience with my brother and this situation that I had.  He had never even seen my brother mad in their years of friendship.

After he left, my love called.  He was acting very cold and eventually asked how the conversation went with the friend.  I forget how he worded it, but he was attempting to insinuate that I was a hypocrite for meeting with this man.  That if it were the other way around it wouldn’t be ok. 

Really?  We talked about this beforehand.  I didn’t invite this man over to have a nice chat and a cup of tea. 

I said, “My dear, God forbid, but if ever your sibling does this to their spouse and you are your sibling’s only hope, then, yes, you have permission to talk to the best friend to figure it out.” 

Nnnoooo…he was on his way out again.

I told my therapist about this.  I remember she said that someone who could suggest such a thing during a crisis like this, was someone who was being a hypocrite themselves.  Someone with something to hide…

It would be another mindfuck of a week.  “He” was getting colder by the second and it was unpredictable which part of him I would encounter. 

He and his son came to a job I had with me and my daughter.  It was a good day and he told me that I was his favorite adult in the world and expressed how much he loved me.  The kids played together while we worked, and we went out to lunch afterward.  Nothing seemed to be wrong on the surface.  But then the next day, “he” would be back with no explanation…freezing, melting, freezing, melting.  Ugh, torture on top of torment.

I was still nursing my own oozing wounds. They’d barely had a chance to stop bleeding.  I had zero energy for managing “him.”  That was supposed to be his job.

We had plans for the upcoming weekend to take the kids to the shore before school started up again.  That was becoming somewhat of a tradition. 

A few days before, my daughter had a show at the barn she rode at.  She did amazing and received a first-place ribbon for the first time!  She was ecstatic and feeling confident and in her element.  Even with the looming darkness, the depth of joy I felt watching her that day, I hope to never forget.  She’s the most impressive person I know.

While we were there, I received a phone call from a friend of my sister-in-law.  Her family was working on cleaning out the apartment her and my brother shared.  They were going to leave all my brother’s things on the curb that weekend and were letting me know in case I wanted to get it.  From my heart, I tried to express my apologies but sensed the disdain too.  Who could blame them?  

(It’s a bizarre experience to be on this side of something like this.  It doesn’t look like the “right” side to others.  To be honest, I’m not on any one person’s side.  I loved them both dearly and can’t support either’s actions.  I’m on the side of what feels right in my soul.)

My daughter’s father was at the show too. I told him about the phone call.  My gut feeling was that I should get my brother’s things for his son’s sake.  Maybe he would want them someday.  My daughter’s father offered to get them himself as it may not have been a good idea for me to go.  Also, we had plans to be at the beach and I was trying to keep my child’s life as normal as possible under such crazy circumstances.  What a relief. I was so thankful for that gesture.

I told my love this plan, hiding nothing, and he seemed fine with it initially, but by the time Friday rolled around, he was singing a completely different tune…

Tick tock…3 more days…

My daughter and I were on our way down the shore when “he” called…

“I’m going to need an explanation for why he’s getting your brother’s things!”

Here we go…

“What do you mean?  We talked about this already.”

“Yeah, but if I did a favor for my ex, it would be a problem,” he said.

“Well, I never had an inappropriate relationship with my ex.  My ex never abused his child.  My ex shows up every time he says he’s going to.  He doesn’t break his child’s heart every time he comes around.  He never texts me in the middle of the night.  He never reaches out to you.  He respects every boundary I ever placed!”

My fuse was already short, and “he” was impossible. I was losing all tolerance for “him.”

“Is there going to be a problem?!” I said, “because if there is, we’ll just turn around and go back home.” 

It was like a flick of a switch, “Nope.  No problem.”

We got there and he was acting like nothing even happened.  I pulled him in the bedroom and shut the door.  I knelt on one side of the bed, and he knelt at the other.  I reached for his hands and held onto them while looking straight in his eyes. I would do that whenever I was trying to find him, my best friend.

“My dear, why are you doing this in the middle of this tragedy??  You saying that I’m a hypocrite and I’m doing something wrong when you know I fight each and every day of my life to live IN integrity!  Every single day.  You know exactly who I am.”

What could “he” say? It was the truth. He knew it and so did “he.”

2 more days…

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