My Brother: How Things work out in Life 

I have written before about my sibling relationships and how unfortunately due to a very dysfunctional childhood it’s left the relationship with my sibling in tatters to the point today that none of us speak to each other. It is very sad, but its just the way life works out.  

Growing up I have so many fantastic memories of my brother, so instead of focusing on the negatives of a dysfunctional upbringing I thought I would relate some incredible memories of a very strong sibling relationship I had with my brother before it all went wrong. 
I am the youngest of three children and growing up my brother was my hero. He was everything I ever wanted to be in life. I always looked up to him for help and advice. He was quite simply my big brother who could do no wrong. 

He had left home by the time I was 9/10 years of age, but that didn’t alter how I felt about him. I wanted to be my brother. He was an accomplished musician and great footballer. In fact anything he set his mind to do generally  would be perfection. In my wisdom I tried to learn to play the guitar. Not my best move as I don’t really have a musical bone in my body, but I was pretty good at football.

When I was living in Australia I played in the same football teams as my brother and they were fantastic times. It was a dream come true, something I had wanted to do after watching him play when I was a small child. 

I have two memories that will stay with me forever where it involves my brother. The first was when I turned sixteen years old and I didn’t receive a birthday card in the post from him. I wasn’t greatly surprised because of the dysfunctional family that was all around me and unfortunately at this time my mother and brother weren’t speaking, so it seemed a long shot that he would send a card, but around midday the doorbell rang and the postman delivered a telegram from my big brother wishing me a Happy Birthday. It was the best present ever. 

The second was when after four years of living in Australia I decided I wanted to travel a bit and I wanted to end up living back in what I considered my home, Wales. It was a sad moment leaving Australia because I knew I wasn’t going back.

As I was about leave to go to customs at the airport my brother handed me a cassette and told me to open it on the plane. It brought a tear to my eye when I did. On one side it said this is where you come home to and it was advance Australia fair. On the other side it said never forget where you come from and it was the Welsh national anthem. 
At that point I realised this would probably be the last time I would see him because I knew I was never going back to Australia and knew he was unlikely to leave Australia and that’s what happened. 

My brother for me growing up was my hero, protector and just my big brother who I knew would do anything for me. 

Unfortunately as the years unfolded contact became less and less and now we don’t speak and I guess the chances of us reconciling ever are very slim.