The Psyche of My Family...

Published on November 15, 2004 By dynamaso In Misc

I have such wonderful memories of my childhood. I am the eldest of five children all born within 6 years (basically, my mother spent the 60's pregnant), with the breakdown being 4 boys then (finally, according to my parents) a girl. My sister had all four of us boys wrapped around her finger from the time she could bat her eyes at Dad. She grew into a beautiful, strong, proud woman who has become a wonderful wife and mother whom I love dearly.

My immediate brother Greg and I were best friends on weekends and school holidays. Most of our school friends lived too far away for us to just hop on our bikes or skateboards and go hang out. Occasionally, we would cajole our mother into driving us to see one friend or another, but not often. The first band I was ever in was with him playing drums. I was the sensitive, emotional one and he was the brazen, fearless one. I like to think we taught each other a lot.

As we grew into adults, we naturally developed our own personalities and started to build our own lives. When I finished High School, I travelled with a childhood friend around Australia working in all sorts of different jobs before joining the Australian Air Force (as my father before me). Meanwhile, Greg became a carpenter (and a very good one, too). I was based at a number of different locations before being posted back to where my family were living. By this time, my father had retired from the Air Force and had settled the remainder of the family in Canberra. Greg had built up a good circle of friends who shared his love of street cars and all things mechanical. My interests lay in completely different areas. While we were still close as brothers, we didn't have the same bond we did as children. My youngest brother Martin, who was by now a mechanic, had far more in common with Greg so naturally they bonded better. I accepted this as part of growing up and moved on. Anthony, the middle brother, and I had more similar interests so we gravitated to each other. But we were, all five of us, still very close.

Time moved on, we all got married and my brothers and sister started their own families. They bought homes in the same area, sent their kids to the same schools and outwardly seemed very happy. By this time, I was divorced and single, out of the Air Force and pursuing a career in the music industry. I moved to Sydney to continue my pursuits. I spoke to my family a lot and visited as often as I could. Then something happened. Some sort of disagreement drove a wedge between Greg and my parents. He stopped talking to them. He stopped talking to my youngest brother and my sister. I was absolutely devastated. I chose not to take sides with anyone, to try to maintain some sort of neutrality and hopefully try to understand what went wrong so I could help put things right again. That was a good half dozen years ago.

Last weekend was Greg's 40th birthday party. In an attempt to try to move forward, he had invited my sister and her husband. My sister, Carmel, was ecstatic to the point of tears. Neither my parents nor my youngest brother were invited. Wife Number Two (although she is Number One in my heart) and I made to car trip to Canberra, caught up with a lot of old friends and spent time with as much of the family as the situation would allow. On the way home after the party, and under the weather somewhat, I made and off-the-cuff remark in response to someone else being a smart arse. I don't even remember what I said. I didn't think I said anything offensive or malicious. My wife and I headed back home to Sydney feeling the warmth and fuzziness that only comes from time with loved ones.

Last night I get a phone call from Greg. He starts berating me. Apparently, I had upset his wife, even though she hadn't said anything to me or anyone else at the time. I couldn't remember what I said and neither could Greg. He 'perceived' a maliciousness I'm just not capable of achieving, something even he admitted at the time. But with this incident came a level of understanding about what caused the rift to begin with. Aside from an over-stimulated sense of sibling rivalry, there is a level of sensitivity I've seen before, but not for many years. I've always maintained the idea that if my siblings continue to live out of each other's pockets, which is what they were doing, then they don't have much of a chance to develop adult relationships with each other because everything they say and do is from the perspectives we maintained as children. As children, of course, we had more than our share of squabbles, usually over the most piddling of matters. What made these into fights was us all being over-sensitive. Yes, all of us. I thought I'd grown past it. In fact, I worked hard at changing this aspect of my personality. But when Greg called and brought this up he was still holding on to the past, in a lot of respects. Instead of letting things go, he and his wife dissect everything anyone says, looking for derisive remarks or asides.

My family is in desperate need of counselling. I don't know what to do. I do now my parents are heartbroken, as am I. I do know Greg has said he doesn't have a mother anymore. I'm not a violent person but my family brings out a violent urge in me. When Greg said this to me, I wanted to cause him bodily harm. My biggest concern is, with my parents fast approaching their twilight years, that they will pass away before this rift is healed. I feel so helpless now. I thought after the weekend, I could start pushing towards a full reconciliation. After last night, it is painfully apparent I can't.

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