Just prior to moving to Arizona in 1988, my father mentioned (during a casual conversation with a waitress) I had a brother in Phoenix. I already knew I had a half-brother from my father's first marriage (he was on his fourth at the time), but I didn't know much about him. My father stopped talking to his first-born son about the time I was born.
There are many theories behind my father's alienation of his son. One is that my brother was too jealous of me when I was born. The other is that he was becoming an age in which one "tells" more about what's going on behind closed doors. I should mention, a) that my father could be a mean son of a bitch and b) my father could be a
real mean son of a bitch.
I couldn't fathom a parent alienating a child; especially one as young as 16. My curiosity had been piqued, so I looked my brother up in the phone book when I moved to Phoenix. That was 22 years ago. I don't recall our first meeting (I'm as bad with specific memories as I am with dates), but
he does. He remembers every detail. I learned very quickly that something was different about my brother. Over the years, I've learned that he suffers from something similar to Asberger's syndrome. His mother said he never received a concrete diagnosis, but it's as though his head were an orange that looked normal on the outside, but it had been smashed on the inside; that his wiring was all mixed up. I've heard from both my mother and my brother that he was in a car accident (caused by father drinking and driving) when he was very young. My mother believes it was that accident that left him impaired.
Either way, it's obvious he lacks social graces and favors talking about a few select subjects, repeating related facts again and again and again. For instance, he knows what the builder called the model of home he grew up in and every little change his mother had them make while building it. He remembers every single family friend from fifty years ago along with the most minute details of their personalities, homes, etc. And he talks about these things with regularity to this day.
His mother did an amazing job raising him. They lived together his entire life until the day she died about five years ago. She had been pretty cruel to him at times which left him feeling a little conflicted when she passed, but one thing was for sure; he enjoyed his new-found freedom. She had kept him on a short leash because his lack of social skills was known to get him in to trouble. Although she left him equipped with skills to grocery shop, cook, work and pay bills, she couldn't possible prepare him to deal with the opposite sex.
That being said, there have been some unfortunate situations with the opposite sex during his life time. Before his mother passed, he was let go from a janitorial position in a hospital for buying rubber gloves for female co-workers. He also got in trouble for firing a gun in a topless bar (he says he thought it was a lighter). Then there was the time he entered the women's locker room in the gym at an apartment complex he worked for. These are just to name a few. However, there are several and each time he has a valid reason for his actions (in his mind).
So it has fallen upon me to give him guidelines for dealing with the opposite sex. The lessons are slow and somewhat painstaking, but at least they are a spring point for social graces.
Shortly after his mother died, he became obsessed with Hooter's. He goes there one to two times a week. He knows the manager and all of the waitresses. And, of course he has a couple of favorite waitresses. I suppose this is as safe as you get for a virgin in his sixties. However, he's been given guidelines for social behaviors that he repeats back to me regularly. He has learned that it is best to speak primarily when spoken to and that physical contact of any kind is inappropriate. (My brother is of large stature, wears an eye patch and spits when he talks so he can seem scary to some people).
He recently had surgery and was hospitalized for a couple of weeks. He actually called his local Hooters a couple of times to let them know he wouldn't be in. Oops, kinda creepy. That eventuality never crossed my mind.
The poor guy lives alone, is out of work and is prone to fits of frustration that reduce him to tears and bouts of cursing. He has an older half-brother (no relation to me) who handles his major finances, but they do not get into personal feelings or social behaviors (unless a crisis has already occurred). They are men's men in that relationship. So my brother has cried on my shoulder more times than I can count. He needs to have this outlet so that things don't surface in some less desirable way at some other time.
One thing I learned early on with my brother is that if he can't reach you by phone, he's apt to call and leave messages insessantly. At the beginning of our relationship, I left town for the weekend and when he couldn't reach me, he went to my place of employment looking for me. He was frantic, acting bizarre and frightened my boss. There have been a number of occasions he's left numerous messages (up to 30) on my phone. He's actually driven across town and showed up frantic and unannounced when there were problems with the phone line. He equipped with rules of engagement regarding phone etiquette, but he slips now and again.
All of that aside, he's loving, truthful, helpful and has a kind heart. Occasionally, in his stories, something about our father surfaces that gives light to a part of my dad's life I never knew. He's a dead ringer for our dad, too. It was unsettling the first time I saw him, but is comforting now. It's confirmation that we share a parent. He also attends a Greek Orthodox church religiously (sorry-I couldn't resist). He's been going there for decades and knows the priests and parishioners well. His knowledge of the bible and religion is almost eery. He is that way with many things. It's amazing how much knowledge he retains; some parts of his brain are wired perfectly.
He fantasizes about cooking us big meals, little meals, taking us around to meet everyone he knows and living with us. I find this quality kind of endearing.
And although he lives an awful lot in the past telling stories of people he knew, he has befriended a few new people and is always willing to lend a helping hand to them. His latest kind gesture is that of loaning rubber boots to women when it's raining outside or the laundry room in his apartment complex floods. What is it with rubber?
Oh, well. For all of the challenges my brother brings, I learn patience and acceptance from him on a regular basis. Keeping him under lock and key would be easiest, but the poor guy has to have some modicum of joy. So he's got his favorite activities to participate in using his guidelines. He ain't heavy, he's got Hooters!
