My older brother came into our family when he was 2 years old. He was a beautiful blond haired, blue eyed boy and, judging from the many photos, our mom dressed him like a doll as she and our dad, showed him off to everyone they knew. Through the years he has faced many difficult challenges, some of which took our parents to the brink of frustration, sorrow and absolute bafflement. Still, I remember a verse my mom had read and which, in calmer times, she used to softly recite, with barely contained tears. I don’t know who wrote it so I can’t give credit here, but I think the words are wonderful, not only for my family, but for all of the blended families out there. Whatever the circumstances were which may have led us all to that place.
“Not flesh of my flesh or bone of my bone
But still miraculously my own,
Never forget for even one minute
You didn’t grow under my heart,
But in it.”
I don’t believe my brother has ever actually understood, or allowed the meaning of these words to soothe his heart and let him know that, while our parents may not have always understood him, they did truly love him.
He still struggles to be okay, wandering through his life, trying to find where he belongs in this world. His obstacles have become greater, his hurdles higher and the finish line hazier and less certain. He may think he is alone, but I will always be here for him. He is my brother and I love him.
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