I know it's been a while since I've checked in. Quick update then:
The get away with Beloved...magical, lovely, a bit tipsy, and relaxing. Cannot wait to do it again!
Kids: Both great.
Co-Workers: Wonderful...'cept for that back-stabbing, "non" training, lying, over-the-top, one who isn't my boss, but likes to think she is when she isn't being threatened by me. Yeah, her I could live without.
House: ahhhh lovin' my house, but the yard needs a serious makeover!
Okay, so there you go. But wait! I titled this post The Return of Golden Child and I didn't explain ANYTHING! My bad. Sorry.
If you have been a reader of this little blog of mine for any time, then you know I have three brothers: The eldest is out of the picture and has been for years and years. Then there is my middle brother, known sarcastically as Golden Child or simply GC, and my youngest brother, Baby.
Baby and I have a conversation about twice a year. This works well for both of us and we don't mess with each other's mojo or pretend our relationship is anything more than it is. It is simple and uncomplicated.
GC and I have a more volatile relationship because he's the favorite and I'm not. It's pretty simple really. The funny thing is, up until nearly two years ago, we were very close.
So...what happened two years ago? Our Omi died. Both GC and I were there for her final days. They were emotional, gut-wrenching days, and GC took it really, really badly. Being the traditional middle child that he is, he attempted to "fix" our family.
This translates into his attempting to make me speak to my mother.
Call me bitter.
Call me a grudge holder.
But I do not speak to my mother.
At least I haven't since the last time I was told that her emotional problems and threats of suicide were my fault.
I simply do not have enough hands to juggle her emotional problems. She needs help and my pleas for the rest of the family, including my father, have all fallen on deaf ears.
But this post isn't about mommy dearest. Nope. It's about her favorite son and my estranged brother, GC.
The last time GC and I spoke...okay, we didn't "speak" we were txting and fighting like children, it ended in a flurry of name calling and requests to send a postcard from hell. Not. Pretty. So you can understand why when I saw his name on my phone, I didn't answer the call. Frankly, I was fairly certain he was going to tell me that one of my parents had died. It's a call I've been expecting for a long time.
Imagine my surprise when I listened to his voicemail and heard the following words:
"Hi...it's me. I don't want to hold a grudge anymore. I'm sorry for whatever I did that made you feel bad. I love you."
To be truthful, I was a bit miffed by the, "Whatever I did..."part. I considered that he isn't the sharpest tack in the box and that maybe he really didn't know that trying to guilt and threaten me into speaking to mommy dearest might have ticked me off. Then I remembered that he is her son and does know a thing or two about the way I tick.
I didn't return his call.
I needed time to think.
When he phoned 24-hours later, I answered. I admit it was a good conversation and apologize poured forth from both sides. I learned things about the days following Omi's death. My heart jumped a little bit when he told me about his life threatening disease.
Kinda hard to be stoic when you realize that the big ape may not survive much longer.
So, here I sit, our relationship mended, and a cloudy future before us. I wonder about his illness and wonder what it all means in the grand scheme of things. I wonder if he's made peace with God. I worry that he'll use it to force me into a conversation with mommy dearest.
At any rate, this little black sheep is glad that there is peace between herself and the Golden Child. I've missed having family. Now, I just wonder how long I'll have one.