My Brother…

I am more than just a little bit annoyed with my brother. In my last post, I wrote about how I came out to him. I thought this would move us closer as brothers. I thought he would feel free to communicate with me considering he now knew we were both gay. I knew he was in financial need and I had some money saved up from my last year in Iraq so I gave him $2000. Mind you I am in graduate school now and I could use that money myself. However, I thought he needed it more than I did.

So I left San Francisco thinking I had made major in roads with my brother. I thought we would become much closer. Instead, he remains a cipher. He never just calls to say hello or ask how I am doing. I was leaving a lecture one day a few weeks ago and I noticed he had tried to call me on my cell phone. He left a cryptic voice mail so I called him back immediately thinking something was wrong. He talked for a few minutes to let me know what was going on in his life; then he asked for more money. I told him no problem and zipped him off a check for another $1000.

A few weeks ago, I noticed him online on Gmail and I attempted to chat with him. He didn’t reply to my chat query. At the time I just figured he was busy with something else and didn’t think much about it. In the morning I read an email from him apologizing for not responding to the chat request.

Another evening, I was talking with my dad and discovered that my dad was sending my brother money. My dad sends my brother money in the hopes of repairing a damaged relationship. He, my dad, hopes to buy his way back into the good graces of my brother.

This past Sunday, I had forgotten to turn on the ringer to my cell phone. Later in the evening, I realized this error and checked for miss calls. I discovered that my brother had called. So I called him back; I thought he was checking up on me to see what was going on in my life. He asked me if I had gotten his voicemail. I apologized and told him I had not heard it. I told him I was in Washington DC visiting friends. I told him about visiting Arlington National Cemetery to see the grave of a former colleague from my Army days. He told me about his life and then he asked for more money.

That hurt.

Naively, I really thought he had called to ask me how I was doing, it being Memorial Day and me being a veteran (two tours in Iraq even.) Instead, the sole purpose of his call was to get more money out of me. He told me about the hard ship he was in and how he was having no luck getting a job.

I feel no sympathy for him there. I used to command a United States Army Tank Company. I held life or death power over people. Now I am a graduate student and I have just started my summer job; I hand out towels at one of the school’s gyms. I really don’t care what sort of crisis my brother is going through. He needs to adjust his pride to suit the reality of his creative pursuits. If I can survive going through the change from making nearly $100K to now making $10.50 an hour, he can go out and get a freaking job. I can’t believe I have given the schmuck part of my blood money from Iraq so he can lament not having a dream job.

There was a fresh sting of pain when I realized that he only calls or initiates contact with me when he wants something. Essentially, my brother is treating me like he treats my father. Although I have never done anything to him, I am having to buy my way onto my brother’s radar screen of familial awareness.

I try not to be over sensitive about things. I just am having a hard time swallowing this pill.