Broken families---Broken Dreams--Broken Hearts

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We are not all fortunate enough to come from happy, solid, loving families. We are not all fortunate enough to be graced with a mother and father who care about us. We are not all fortunate enough to have a childhood free of physical, mental and emotional abuse. I never knew my mother, but did know my father who was an alcoholic. I knew my older sister who had two children by the time she was 17 with no real idea of who the fathers were. I suppose that was because her grade 8 education and no guidance from a mother left her virtually defenseless to the ways of the world. I also knew my older brother who had a choice of jail or the army when he was 18. I suppose his grade 7 education and a father's guidance were not enough to teach him how to avoid the trouble that plagued his every childhood step. All I can say is....thank God for the army. As soon as I was able I left home and struck out on my own. Too many nights of crying silently into a pillow during drunken fights and fits of rage drove me away from any memory of the family and childhood I just wanted to forget. To many days of falling asleep in class, exhausted from another night of fear and pain. Just another day as a child wondering why nobody loved me. Wondering who in this world would look after me.... The years passed. Many years. In 40 years I heard from my sister by mail 5 or 6 times as she tried desperately to convince me to get in touch with her so we could have some semblance of a family, but each contact just brought back memories of a childhood I wanted to forget. I never once in those 40 years contacted my brother. He was a stranger to me. One day when I was 57 my sister called and said our brother had died. It was all I could do to go to that funeral. It was far away. It was traumatic. It was a revelation. For the first time I learned who my brother really was. He had a distinguished career in the army and served twice with Nato's peace keeping forces. Though retired from the army he was given a military service. We discovered that much like myself, he kept to himself. We discovered his love of collecting sports cards and especially his love for hockey. Much like myself. We discovered his love for fishing and nature. Much like myself. We discovered his love of collecting classic vinyl records from the 60's much like myself. In those few days I discovered for the firs time what I had truly lost so many years ago when I was a frightened, sad, lonely child. I had lost the companionship of a brother who was so much like me. How marvelous it could have been. What a tragic, tragic loss for both of us. So, when you have a family gathering. When you see all your brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews. When you see your smiling happy parents.....thank God, because it is such a blessing for you. And if you are estranged from your brothers or sisters, really consider making the first step toward reconciliation, because you may be missing out on something very special. And one day, when it is too late, you may just realize how much you missed out on. All I have of my brother is the memory of what might have been and his United Nations blue beret that sometimes I take out just to hold to honor his memory and at the same time to thank God that he no longer feels the hurt of his childhood lost.