Fall Out

I was out a week ago, almost a week ago, and my eye caught someone I knew.  It took me a moment to really absorb who I was looking at.

The walk was the same, but - it had a more pronounced limp.  The features were the same, but - there was more gray in the hair, a gauntness to the face and a tiredness in the grooves.  The body was slimmer, broad shoulders weighted down.

The man I was staring at, that I was double and triple taking at, was my infallible, indestructible, strong big brother.  The man that called me white cloud because our mother would put milk of magnesia on my face for my eczema.  The big brother that tossed me around, tickled me endlessly, laughed when I worked out with him imitating his strongman moves, and let me swing from his bicep.

First out of our mother, named after our father, he was supposed to become so much.  Yet, there is only so much we can instill in our kids and let go hoping they make the right choices.  He looks old and run down now, a result of a life where he tried to get the most out of little regardless of the method, including hurting and almost destroying his own mother.

I often wonder about my children, I see things in them that I know other parents probably see in theirs and live in denial about.  I carry my kids as hard as I do, but they still return to me because there is still that patience and softness of their mother.  If I abused them, they wouldn't curl up under me so.

At 48 years old, he has seven kids.  Two older ones that have no use for him, and five of them I don't know how they are going to make it.  Ages 15, 11, 8, 6 and a nearly 1 year old.  When does he get to "retire"?  When does he sit back and take in life at an easier pace?  At this rate, he will be working to take care of the 1 year old until he, himself is 65.

My eyes watered and I texted a close friend.  She reminded me that we are all living results of our decisions, good or bad.  We are living with the results of paths we've taken.  But that doesn't stop me from grieving for him.  For feeling for his kids, I know how hard it is with my two.  It doesn't stop me from feeling a pang, wanting to help them, but knowing that if I open that door it will drag me down and suffocate me.

This is pure madness.  I feel more like an only child everyday...