2007/04/05 10:42
I Thought More Distance Would Make the Heart Grow Even Fonderer
Growing up, I didn't have many friends. I know, hard to believe, a blogger was unpopular in school. But there was one guy who couldn't get rid of me, no matter how he tried, because at the end of the day we had to share a bedroom.
Not that my brother really tried to shake me. In fact, I think that being related to me helped him more than it hurt. He went through grades close enough to me that the teachers favorably remembered my quiet diligence and so gave him the benefit of the doubt, but far enough that the students hadn't been unduly exposed to my antisocial nerdiness and thereby didn't feel compelled to pick him last for basketball.
Of course we've had our difficulties. When I was nine, we had a fist fight that literally spanned three days. In high school, we were both occasionally held back from what we really wanted to do by the other (he was a tagalong, I was a dictator with a driver's license). About five years ago, he married a shrew and we didn't speak for months. But we've always managed to climb these obstacles, learn from them, and strengthen our relationship.
Which is why it should be really hard for me that today Mike is gone from Albuquerque, moving into his new house in Silicon Valley.
This move to California has been a long time coming. Shortly after Sed and I came to Florida, he realized that a relocation and separation from the mothering hand of, well, our mother would help him just as it's helped us. Learning that it's possible to manage a household on our own without the easy out of calling a parent or grandparent has been invaluable to our self-worth and to our stock as adults. More importantly, if you've never made that break, you'll find it difficult to define yourself outside the context of your surroundings.
Of course it can be scary to relocate to a totally new place with nothing and nobody. (My first three months in Japan speaks loudly to that. This time I had my loving wife and canine daughters to ease the transition.) Which is why the Bay Area was such a promising prospect to him -- it houses much of his dream industry, plus his best friend already lives there, a friend who's been forced into adulthood by the death of his parents and thereby can help Mike make the transition. All that remained would be actually finding a job in the area -- and when his company offered to relocate him, it was settled.
So now he's not home anymore. And I feel guilty for not feeling sadder. Thing is, it just isn't real to me yet. My brother and I cleanly encapsulate our parents' communication disconnect -- I take after Mom, working to keep people in the loop as events and emotions unfold, where he follows Dad's example of waiting until everything is done and settled to summarize upon request. As neither of us is a particular fan of the telephone, it falls upon me to publicly and electronically harangue him for details, to the point where if it was politically acceptable he'd probably ban me from his message board.
Another part of my lack of dejection is distance. My heart broke a little leaving my family in Albuquerque when we came out here. There, the damage was done. His leaving a place that I don't actually live, after all, isn't widening the rift.
Don't get me wrong. His being 3000 miles away instead of a mere 2000 does suck. But the reality hasn't hit. And it probably won't until we move back home and my brother, who's simply always been there, isn't.
Not that my brother really tried to shake me. In fact, I think that being related to me helped him more than it hurt. He went through grades close enough to me that the teachers favorably remembered my quiet diligence and so gave him the benefit of the doubt, but far enough that the students hadn't been unduly exposed to my antisocial nerdiness and thereby didn't feel compelled to pick him last for basketball.
Of course we've had our difficulties. When I was nine, we had a fist fight that literally spanned three days. In high school, we were both occasionally held back from what we really wanted to do by the other (he was a tagalong, I was a dictator with a driver's license). About five years ago, he married a shrew and we didn't speak for months. But we've always managed to climb these obstacles, learn from them, and strengthen our relationship.
Which is why it should be really hard for me that today Mike is gone from Albuquerque, moving into his new house in Silicon Valley.
This move to California has been a long time coming. Shortly after Sed and I came to Florida, he realized that a relocation and separation from the mothering hand of, well, our mother would help him just as it's helped us. Learning that it's possible to manage a household on our own without the easy out of calling a parent or grandparent has been invaluable to our self-worth and to our stock as adults. More importantly, if you've never made that break, you'll find it difficult to define yourself outside the context of your surroundings.
Of course it can be scary to relocate to a totally new place with nothing and nobody. (My first three months in Japan speaks loudly to that. This time I had my loving wife and canine daughters to ease the transition.) Which is why the Bay Area was such a promising prospect to him -- it houses much of his dream industry, plus his best friend already lives there, a friend who's been forced into adulthood by the death of his parents and thereby can help Mike make the transition. All that remained would be actually finding a job in the area -- and when his company offered to relocate him, it was settled.
So now he's not home anymore. And I feel guilty for not feeling sadder. Thing is, it just isn't real to me yet. My brother and I cleanly encapsulate our parents' communication disconnect -- I take after Mom, working to keep people in the loop as events and emotions unfold, where he follows Dad's example of waiting until everything is done and settled to summarize upon request. As neither of us is a particular fan of the telephone, it falls upon me to publicly and electronically harangue him for details, to the point where if it was politically acceptable he'd probably ban me from his message board.
Another part of my lack of dejection is distance. My heart broke a little leaving my family in Albuquerque when we came out here. There, the damage was done. His leaving a place that I don't actually live, after all, isn't widening the rift.
Don't get me wrong. His being 3000 miles away instead of a mere 2000 does suck. But the reality hasn't hit. And it probably won't until we move back home and my brother, who's simply always been there, isn't.
I think you hit it right on that you need to separate yourself and give yourself an opportunity to grow and develop who you are as an adult. Mo and I talked a bit about it when the move opportunity first came up. Sometimes, although, it is scary, you end up having some of the most incredible experiences and learning so much. And, I think he's ready for this. Plus, he's also closer to me too. :)
When Cami left for Chicago in high school my biggest worry was that I wasn't going to have anyone around to get new music from. When she moved to Boston it didn't feel much different than when she moved to Chicago, even though we'd definitely grown closer as we got older. But it was like your brother's move in that, you're already far away from each other, so another 1000 miles isn't a HUGE difference. You'll feel it more, maybe, when you move back to Albuquerque and he isn't there.
It's the overseas that kills me. Germany is not only really far away, but it is instantly more difficult and expensive to send mail or phone, and for awhile I was calling Cami all the bloody TIME. But I am definitely the immediate family member who has the most contact with her, even though I never call her on the phone -- we have Skype and livejournal and other various blogs, and email and my webcam. Mom and Dad ask ME how she's doing. I've been thinking of buying her a webcam.
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It's the overseas that kills me. Germany is not only really far away, but it is instantly more difficult and expensive to send mail or phone, and for awhile I was calling Cami all the bloody TIME. But I am definitely the immediate family member who has the most contact with her, even though I never call her on the phone -- we have Skype and livejournal and other various blogs, and email and my webcam. Mom and Dad ask ME how she's doing. I've been thinking of buying her a webcam.
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