My mother actually gave birth to 7 children, however, my little brother Raymond who was two years younger than me, died, just before his first birthday from a hole in his heart. Even at my young age of 3 years old I somehow thought it was my fault. My mother often talked to me about not putting plastic bags in his crib, she told me he could suffocate, I wondered somehow at 3 if I had placed a bag in his crib by mistake. I remember feeling such sadness when Raymond died. I had SO loved to make him smile and laugh in his crib, he loved to giggle just like me. To this day I am not sure how this childhood incident affected my life. This is my journey so I am still figuring things out. Discovery is a good road to be on.
I was in the middle of the pack in birth order. My brother Albert was two years older than me. OK, the tears are beginning to come, which is quite alright, they need to come. As many of you know my brother has been missing for almost a year, if you do not know the story you may "Google it" - Albert and Rita Chretien. Rita was miraculously found after 49 days and is a JOY to our family, a true inspiration. My brother Albert has not been found or any signs of clothing or remains. It breaks all of our hearts. I had learned over the years to appreciate Albert's compassionate heart for others and his integrity which was evident in every area of his life. However, Albert loved to tease me as a child. I often wondered if he acted out because he missed his dad, just like me. But it became his mission to make me cry or irritate me, either by teasing or tickling me until I would almost throw up. One day he chased me around the whole block with a snake that he wanted to put down my top, I never knew I could run so fast. He called me "fatty, fatty two by four, can't get through the bathroom door" over and over again. My mother didn't stop him, I think she thought it might make me tough. My dad and I had always shared a love of ice cream and each night I would join him with my bowl. He taught me to churn my ice cream until it was like a thick smoothie. Fondly looking back, eating ice cream with my daddy was one of my favorite childhood memories. After daddy died I began to eat in SECRET, especially anything that contained sugar. I ate fatting food in secret so as not to feel shame or to be teased. Many, many nights I took ice cream down to my room and hid the empty bowls under my bed. In the morning I would sneak up the stairs and quickly wash the bowls so no one would know. It was my dirty little secret. All my life I have hidden food, eating and binging while no one was looking, I was fearful of their scorn. Overeating became my drug of choice to numb my pain or possibly a way to express anger, not sure exactly, I am still discovering "me". No neat little package here.
About 4 or 5 years ago, Albert and I talked about his constant teasing. He asked me to forgive him, in his own quirky way. My daughter who was there, has reminded me of this moment often. I hold on to that moment, all the time realizing that Albert was “just” being a kid. I miss my beloved brother more than I could ever imagine but I know without a doubt he would be proud of me. He would encourage me on my journey. I know he is looking down on me and he is saying with his impish grin, “I am proud of you Lorraine, I know you can do it because you are lovable and worthy." KLEENEX please!
No comments:
Post a Comment