Prayers for My Kid Brother

If I told you that I prayed for a baby brother even though my parents told me it wasn’t possible, would you believe me? Probably. Not much to contend there. If I told you that he was finally born when I was twenty-seven, would you be amazed? Hmm, strange, but possible, you might say. If I told you that by the time he was one, I was having a nervous breakdown in my tiny San Francisco bathroom, because I was worried for his life, would that be getting too personal? How about if you learned that because of him, I realized I needed to make some major changes in my own lifestyle knowing that he needed someone he could rely on one day? Would you wonder more about the mystery of this family dynamic? And if one day last May he called and asked if he could move in with me and my husband, how would you add up the story then?

Sometimes, I deliberately avoid the magnitude of the situation. Other times, I am in awe of it. A thirteen year old boy asks to move in with his sister who lives 3,000 miles away, because he no longer feels safe at home. This story is not entirely mine. There are many characters involved, and they each deserve their right to privacy. On the other hand, I don’t entirely feel compelled to ignore the elephant in the room. It exists, and we might as well admit it. This is something to accept, not deny. To embrace, not to push away. And let’s face it, the story could be far, far worse.

I will leave out the details, though, because I prefer to protect my brother. Suffice it to say, we have had to overcome a great deal. But what can we do? Those are the cards. They’re on the table, and we’re playing our hand as best we can.

And guess what. That best is pretty awesome. My brother has lived with us now for six months. I became his official guardian this September. He attends an amazing school, has made some good friends, and most importantly he feels safe and secure. His grades have gone from C’s, D’s, and F’s to A’s and B’s. He has consistency. He’s thriving. He eats vegetables! He actually enjoys reading! I could brag about him all day, really.

It’s hard to write this post. It’s cryptic, and oh so many juicy details must be left out. But I felt it was important to point out how grateful I am for this opportunity to take care of my little brother. He gives me far more than I give him. Always has. It may seem like I'm helping him, but the truth is, he saved me from the time he was one year old. Fast forward to today, and this experience is teaching me more than I could have imagined and at lightening speeds. I tend to be the optimist, and this situation proves, once again, that having the right attitude and putting one baby step in front of the other each day helps to overcome life’s obstacles.

I believe with all my heart, that we’re not given more than we can handle. I’m so blessed to have my kid brother here with us. Blessed to have a supportive husband. And grateful that I have a place to proudly display his photo. I am sure you can believe me when I say that I am utterly amazed by his courage. One day, we’ll tell the full story, because I feel confident it will be one with a very happy ending.