First, hike two miles up the mountain to reach cell service. You need to feel the strain in your muscles, the challenge. Driving into town is too easy.
Watch as mist rises from the valley below, how the mountains in shades of purple shape the skyline. Feel the brisk wind.
Ignore your numb hands. Dial your brother’s number.
Appreciate that despite the steady drizzle the connection holds. Maybe it’s a sign.
Start by catching up about career and family, then slowly take the dive.
“Since we’re managing mom’s estate and summer house together, I think we need to keep careful records, receipts of purchases and expenses, clear transparent communication. Should we hire someone to manage the house at least?”
He is months behind on receipts and has been evasive. Our two siblings have no idea. They are punctual with records of all transactions relating to the shared cottage where we’ve spent summers for years.
Stay calm as your conversation unwinds, tangles, and snags.
Ignore that he is screaming at you. “How can you treat me this way? We’re family. Don’t you trust me? How can you accuse me of stealing? For God’s sake, we grew up together. If we can’t believe each other without writing all that crap down and keeping tedious records then who can we rely on? You’re just like the rest of them.”
Follow your mother’s old adage: “Put yourself in neutral” acknowledging that it has never worked for you.
Even though his weeping unhinges you, drops a bomb in your stomach, never mind. This is important. Try.
“It’s not personal. It’s just about receipts and staying objective which seems even more important with family matters. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you or seemed disloyal in any way. That wasn’t my intention. You’re my brother. We’ve been through so much that only you can understand. I love you.”
Silence.
Reach out. “Brock, are you there?”
The rain has picked up. The maple shelters you until the rain is too heavy, and it tips cold water down your back. Feel the rain saturate your skin because the chill makes sense.
Your battery is dying, not much time left. Despite your repeated attempts, no answer.
He’s gone.
Commit to the yearly ritual, your two mile climb to reach him. Remember he’s your brother. You refuse to abandon him. You do it for yourself as much as for him.
Leave your message, because even though he doesn’t respond, you know he’s out there. In the silence, you feel him listening.
Image by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash.com, licensed under CC 2.0.
- Mount Hunger - August 2, 2024