Yours, Mine, and Ours | Introductions


My earliest memories include serving as an interpreter for my brother to the rest of the world. I used to think I had superpowers, that maybe he spoke a language that only I understood. "He says he wants lunch," "He said he wants mom," "He's saying 'Fuck Christmas.'" I've always been a fan of accuracy and authenticity. Brother M is two years older than me, so I'd never known anything different than him and his muddling speech that over the years has evolved into a gruff mumble. Though I'm not a fan of the phrase, even in those days, I knew I was my brother's keeper. 

~~~~


She came into siblings in the kind of way that TLC makes shows about. One biological child (her), 8 brothers and sisters adopted from all around the world, many with disabilities. They were as dysfunctional as they were loving. They were the Brady Bunch on meth. In ways, she was Marsha Marsha Marsha, Jan and the housekeeper, whose name I can't remember, all at once. 

~~~~


Brother P and Sister S knew each other in the orphanage all the way on the other side of the world. With some years apart, they reconnected and came to share a home and family. In the group of nine, they have been closest to each other, for better or for worse. It's a partnership that sometimes ends with a "I'll help you help me," but we're working on it. Sister S is bubbly beyond measure, and as stubborn as a bull. She also loves horses. I can't do any introduction justice without mentioning horses. Brother P holds a place in my heart that few others do. He is gentle, laughs from his belly, and poops in a Ripley's Believe it or Not kind of way. Every time they're in our care, I feel whole. 

~~~~


I grew up fearing love in the husband and wife kind of way. With the knowledge that Brother M would one day be in my care, I couldn't imagine how love would accept the conditions I had to put up. How appropriate is guardianship, vocational training, and long-term care plans as first date conversation? Wife and wife love has proven to be far less scary. The universe shifted the light of the stars towards me when they brought J into my life. And with Brother P and Sister S, this love that I feared has come to be the glue that binds us. 

~~~~



We don't quite know what to call ourselves. We call them "the sibs" (get it, sib like siblings? does the blog name suddenly make more sense to you?), because calling grown adults "the kids" is weird and makes us uncomfortable. Of all the places, that's where we draw the weirdness line. Sister S and Brother P have just moved in with us on a long-term basis. Brother M will follow when the time comes. This is the story of our little family, navigating social services, love, and buildings that are frustratingly not ADA friendly. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Why to Hire Moms and Women with Gaps in their Resumes

Image
Perhaps this is irrelevant content. Perhaps no one in the right position will ever read this, because really, who reads this at all except for Cindy, who I worked with two years ago (hi Cindy!). I want to talk about the importance of recognizing the work that moms do, not just because I'm sort of a mom and this work as a sort of mom has been the hardest of my life. I want to talk about this because moms and women in general can often find themselves relegated to the home, sometimes by choice and sometimes as a result of the society we live in and a culture of male dominance. And the home is an arena of comfort, not often recognized as a battleground of management, leadership, and steadiness. I worked for some time as an advocate at a domestic violence (DV) organization. So often, women find themselves freshly out of an abusive relationship that not only isolated them from their family, their friends, and their ability to make money for themselves, but also left them with an e...
Read more

A Letter to My Sort of Kids on Our Familyversary

Image
To P and S (or Hash Brown 1 and Hash Brown 2, as you like to be called)-- I know this is not the life we thought we'd have, but what a wonderful life it is. July came and went, as did the anniversary of us becoming a family, in all its weird and messy and laughter-filled glory. In some ways it feels like the year has flown by. In both the best and worst of times, days quickly became nights which quickly became days. And still we stand together. In this tumultuous year you both have grown in ways that I could never have imagined. Your sister and I are so, so proud of who you are, and constantly think about how lucky we are that this is our life. I don't say this much because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, but I want to let you know that I love you more than I knew I could love. I look at both of you and all I feel is warmth. I cherish even the small moments, like when I get to drive you to work or a dance, and we just talk about your day or your favorit...
Read more

Out of the Darkness-ish

Image
"This is our transition period." Over and over, we'd remind ourselves, "this is our transition period." This was our time for learning and adjusting and making mistakes and exhaustion crying in the car because we'd realize it was our only 20 minutes alone all week. This was our time to learn what it means to give grace. To ourselves and to our caseworkers and to our sibs, who, contrary to our occasional thoughts, were not taking two hours to get ready in the morning just to fuck with us. There was a sense of loss in our hearts. When we could finally catch our breath after a day of doctors appointments and job coaching appointments and preparing meals and preparing two people to be more independent, not to mention our own schoolwork, we mourned our youth. We mourned this loss of choice. We grieved this hypothetical life of adventurous twenty-somethings who took spontaneous road trips to the shore. And we were crushed by the guilt of it all. Of not feeding the...
Read more