The Rift

Brother, you're as distant as the soft light of August.  A reach is all it would take to bring us together again, like we were in times long ago, when your smile lit up the jumbotron.  As a baby you would laugh heartily in the yellow glow of the nursery, crawling on your knees toward a basket of blocks, drooling carelessly under the night lights of a dreamy ceiling, squealing soft lullabies drawn from the chords of summer.  You grew to love the weekends, those Saturday mornings spent eating pancakes and playing video games; adventures in the woods pretending we were soldiers on secret missions; biking down roads where the wind sculpted our hair with a freedom released; all those memories cast into a frozen auditorium after the fall, where music was the only thing that could save us from the rage inside, from a broken family that still loved you after the divide.  

What happened is not your fault, none of it was.  You were too young to understand what was going on, even I was.  We were like two search dogs lost in a sea of grass, aware of a smell leading us somewhere but unsure where it is.  We knew there was something wrong with our family, but it wasn't transparent until we grew up and learned the ways of adults.  By then we had grown apart, drifted into our cells of motherboards and thick volumes, living in the same house yet feeling a thousand miles apart.  And I take most of the blame for that, because I was the one who did it first; who shunned you when I learned to be alone, who denied you the experiences we formerly shared, of playing together, of involving you with my friends, even of the harmless fights we had which seemed so serious yet had nothing to do with what was happening.  As the older one, I was supposed to set the example.  I only wish I'd been strong enough to lead you on a path that didn't push you away from me.    

It amazes me that you didn't turn out so bad in spite of all the troubles you had.  He wanted you to have an education, but even after failing to meet that expectation, you ended up successful.  Your marriage is healthy and strong, something that many walking in your footsteps wouldn't be capable of having.  You have a strong character, are bold in your expression of the arts, refined enough to generate interest among the renegades you attract, as sensitive to the feelings of others as tendrils of hair kissed by zephyrs.  You took all the big steps in life before I did, and for that I'm immensely proud of you.  You've led a good life when you could have easily lost yourself in self-pity the way your older brother did.  

My wife says that in Thailand, if you talk negatively about your parents you will go to Hell.  If that's true then I will be there for a very long time.  While abandonment should give me the license to speak harshly of one, I can't do the same to the other.  All she was trying to do was prove to him that she could succeed without an education.  And you ended up doing the same.  We all did.  It's strange how education, that highest of intellectual virtues- held even by myself in the highest esteem for all my adult life- became so idealized by him that it ultimately tore us apart.  His zealotry for education- not for Evangelical redemption or the ambition to win at all costs, as is usually the case in our country- was the source of his insecurity.  All we can learn from him, should we both have children, is that while getting a degree is important, it isn't necessary to lead a successful life; and we shouldn't be too hard on them for getting bad grades, especially if we can't find the time to help with homework.  

My only request is that you never forget me.  I'm the one who lifted you up when you fell in the ocean, who you looked up to for most of your childhood, who wanted to keep playing with you as you grew older but didn't know how.  There never was a rivalry between us, there never was a wall; only the illusion of loss when we'd forgotten we still had each other.  The reason for my absence had nothing to do with who you are, so be your wonderful self, brother, in all the comic wonder you possess.  Remember where you came from.  Hold onto your roots, even as the world tries its hardest to pull you apart.  Remember we are still here, and we still care; we always will, even if we never hear from you.  

As the days draw forward, the rift that divided us spreads farther apart, until all we can see is that ridiculous man in the valley between, proud of himself for using us to hurt her the same way she hurt him.  If it's any consolation, there is a place where the rift comes together again, at the edge of the shield where the valley begins, where after all that wretched Earth is tossed into the mantle, churned into a nostalgic cream that smells of the room we shared, it flows back out of the ground, onto our soulscapes to be reunited again.  There you will find me, in those perpendicular fractures where the parallel faults intersect, with opens arms and an open mind, ready for forgiveness and ready to live outside your shadow.