I want to apologize for my inability to post the past few days. [It's not like I'm getting hits through the roof anyway.]
When my father was young, he led the expectedly promiscuous lifestyle that came with the uncertainty of war (no electricity, no lights, the possibility of death lurking around every corner, what was a 14-year-old to do?). The end result: I have six half-brothers and two half-sisters from two different women.
I've never been close to my half-brothers. I can't say there is resentment, nor can I say there is a great deal of love, given the fractured family history endured by my siblings, who were pretty much overpassed by my father in favor of marriage to my mother. We've just never been close. As the eldest son of my mother, the responsibility fell upon me to love my younger brother; I can't say I really received the kind of secure, 'I'll take care of you' love from my elder brothers, of which there were several who could've reached out, but didn't.
Now, two days ago, I received word my eldest brother, Freddie, a former world darts champion, has been diagnosed with cancer - twice. He has lung cancer, the result of years of smoking, and brain cancer, the result, I assume, of the spread of the lung cancer. I don't know at which stage it is, but I can't deny that a long life in the presence of his family seems bleak at this point.
Last night, Cathy accused me of insensitivity towards my brothers - and a lot of other people. Admittedly, I, like Friends' Chandler Bing, use humor as a way of dealing with uncomfortable situations, and I may have made a couple of jokes that some would interpret below the belt. I don't mean to be insensitive nor crude; mastery of Christian speech and control of a sarcastic and acerbic tongue are not things I can put on my resume anytime soon.
I do worry about Freddie, though, and about another half-brother, Sandy, who had undergone double hip replacement surgery yesterday, the result, I suppose, of severe lack of calcium (well, that's a no-brainer).
Meanwhile, I am trying my darndest to work my magazine off the ground. Here's to the inevitable headache that will ensue at around 230pm, and to the healing that God will deliver me. I pray that my brothers can be as forgiving.