My Blankety Blank Brother

Tuesday, Oct. 18, 2005 - 4:22 p.m.

Friends and loved ones, I have been slighting you. My posts have been very light and fluffy and free of substance for a while now, but there was a situation that I didn't know how to begin to address, and it's bursting wide open -- so maybe it's time to share.

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It's about my stupid frigging jackass of a brother.

Back in June, I wrote him a letter and asked him what the status of our grandmother's estate was. He wrote me back this longass rigmarole email that claimed he hadn't gotten proper relief from the attorney, that he wasn't going to pay the attorney until he was satisfied with the amount of service he was receiving, and that except for the money due the attorney, (which he assured me was safely tucked away in a bank not to be spent) all the rest of the money in her estate was GONE and DO NOT ask where the rest of it went. No problem. Don't worry. Everything's handled.

So I didn't worry. Instead, I went ahead and spent MY portion of the estate, having been satisfied that things were under control with my brother. We got out of debt, we bought some furniture, I travelled, I bought new clothing after losing weight on Atkins and getting tired of wearing jeans that looked like clown pants, and most importantly, I got John a car that doesn't hurt his back when he gets in and out of it. In other words, I trusted that my brother was telling the truth. John and I are out of debt, we are clothed and furnished, and all of my share is now spent. But it was money well spent, and spent because I thought it was okay, based on what my brother was saying to me. Continued reassurances.

Well. That's what I get for TRUSTING HIM.

My closest remaining blood relative has LIED to me.

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Fast forward to right now. I've just heard from the attorney and from my brother. They both had news for me, namely that there's a strong chance my brother is going to be sent to jail on October 31st for non-payment of taxes.

My brother also asked me for six thousand dollars and made very vivid and desperate offers of repayment at high interest.

I wrote back and said it was gone, since he kept telling me everything was handled and that it was okay, blahdy blah blah. This is the truth. It's gone.

He's currently conjuring the money from somewhere.

But I REFUSE to feel guilty about this.

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I also am going to speculate about something here. Disclaimer, disclaimer.

My father loved to gamble. He would drive up and spend the weekend in Reno, whenever the situation allowed. My mother, who spent about twenty years of her life addicted to prescription medication, also loved to gamble via football pools and lottery tickets.

Genetic predisposition notwithstanding, the gambling bug has never bitten me, and for that I am very grateful -- but I have sometimes wondered about my brother, as he was involved in my father's school football pool since before he was of age.

I don't *think* his actual name appears as 'firstname lastname' anywhere in my blog, but when I Googled him by 'firstname lastname' to double-check, I found an entry in a guestbook for a professional juggling team in which he said he made it a point to go and see these jugglers whenever he was at Circus Circus. ... In Reno.

Then the words he had sent to me returned to me. "Don't ask what happened to the rest of the money. It's gone."

Now that I look back, I'm seeing way too many unhappy patterns that he's putting himself and his family through. His telephone is shut off. He won't give me any contact information. He's moved his family numerous times. He has pawned or sold family treasures, such as my grandfather's favorite hunting rifle. Once he took a lot of things from my father when he and his wife came up to 'clean the house' as a 'favor' for him while Dad was out of town with his second wife.

Nobody will be able to help him until he hits rock bottom. The best he can hope for is for bail to be set and to work off his sentence with community service.

And -- I have to let him go all the way down. Nobody else on either side of the family has had the nerve to let him face his demons before.

I think it's time.

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Meanwhile, I will cry. Because I love him. And because he's a prick.

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Thanks for your patience with me while I deal.

I don't know what I'd do without Diaryland.

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And brother dear? I really hope I have it all wrong about you, what with the gambling theory.

But you're still a prick for lying to me.

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