Just a little while ago, I talked about the exciting things to come to this blog. However, as I mentioned before, 2016 was a bad year and I’m still reeling from it. What I stumbled upon this past weekend is that I might end up killing this blog because somehow my relationship with my sisters is a major player in my desire and fire to write.
I don’t know how this is possible.
Have you ever found out that everything you knew was a lie? Did you think things were one way when, in truth, it was a 180 degree turn of events?
I had found out that I wasn’t a good brother for years. I had thought I was, but no. I messed up in a serious way. I hadn’t realize my mistake until years later.
I really thought I was something. I wasn’t perfect, but darn it, I was good. I was really good! I wasn’t full of myself but I knew I was good at what I did. I was very confident. I knew only two things in life: I was a good brother, and I was funny. That’s all that mattered to me. That was my life.
As I tried to come to grips with this new reality, people told me that I was still a good brother. Eh…see, I don’t know if I accept that. I’m a brother; I am THE brother. Wouldn’t I know if I was doing my job well or not?
Who determines that you’re a good brother? You? Your sibling(s)? Parents? Other people? Is it a combination?
