Bob.... my Hero Brother.

I don't talk too much about my brothers but I want to say something about my oldest brother today.

Bob, Bob was so talented. He could pick up any instrument and play it like he was born to play. I hear he was extremely intelligent. I didn't know that side of him. My earliest memory of my brother Bob was when he was leaving our house forever. He was 17 and I was 5 or close to it. I remember him coming up to the house on the hill in town and giving me a huge hug and telling me he loved me. I was very confused. I didn't understand where he was going and why he was leaving.  I can only speculate at these things by what I've been told because I was spared the scary part until years later. From what I know Bob was on drugs. Not just pot but heroine and hard drugs. My Dad said he can't have that around his other kids (still 5 of us at home). Some things happened and Bob left. 

No body talked about Bob to me. They may have been talking about him among themselves but I never heard anything about him. That didn't stop me from thinking about him and writing poetry about him. When we moved to our house way out in the country I would ride my horse and make up stories about a man that comes looking for us. In my story he asks me if I know a family with the last name Salgado and I say yes, that is my family. He gets out of his truck and says, "I'm your brother Bob".  The reunion that happened in my head was right out of a fairy tale. 

By this time in my life my Mom was showing severe signs of being paranoid schizophrenia. She would speak to the airplanes at night. We would sit outside and it was so clear our there that we could pick out airplanes flying overhead. She would call them by name and talk to them like she is having a real honest to goodness chat. They would tell her where they are going and different things that at first I thought was fun and being a story writer I wanted more stories about where "Sky Jokey" was headed. Along with this behavior came some very bad things. Hitting me if I didn't see the person that was spying on her. Telling my friends that people are following her. Cutting our clothesline after an all day washing session. Telling me to stop signing because I make her have a headache. Always telling me it is okay to be the ugly sister because I'm the smart one. So, so many things that are in the past but I have to admit they helped to shape my future. 

In my stories my brother Bob would meet up with me while I was horseback riding and our family would go back to normal. He would fix my mom. He would make her a mom who loved me again. 

One of the biggest issues in my family was that we never talked about the secret things. Our mom would leave us after dinner one night just out of the blue. My parents didn't fight or anything. She would just announce that she is leaving. The way my Dad handled it was with a disgusted look on his face but not much else. I don't know if that is because he was so tired of the same crap happening over and over again because just like she would leave us, she would suddenly show up at our house after months of being gone. Acting like everything is okay and she had been there all the time. My baby sister was super close to my mom so every time my mom would leave my baby sister would cry and be so sad. I reacted to my mom's leaving with a cold exterior. I had to be tough for my baby sister and I knew that I needed to be the "woman" of the house and fix meals and make sure the shopping and laundry got done. I would just go into auto pilot. It made me hateful that we never talked about my mom leaving and very often I would lash out at her and ask her what the hell her problem is. She would threaten me not to disrespect her like that which I knew was a huge sin in my catholic house. The mother is the "Saint." When my mother would threaten me that she is going to tell my Dad how I act towards her I started to tell her, "good, I have a few things I'd like to tell him about you too." That was really all it took. Neither one of us spoke of our unhappiness with the other person. I just shoved down the anger the best I could. It bubbled over a few times though just like the bully story. 

Flash forward 5 years ahead.... My oldest sister had given to me what I thought was the very greatest gift in the world. I had a little niece that I adored so much. She is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen inside and out! I was smitten and everything I thought about had her in the mix. I was supposed to babysit with my little niece so my oldest sister picked me up from high school. I was only 15 and couldn't drive legally. In the back of the van as she was driving towards her house in a town not too far away, she casually mentions to me, " Guess who came to see me today?" I had no idea and it wasn't really a game so she said to me, "Bob, he came home." The emotions that ran through my body were like an explosion. My brother was home! Could it be that he can still fix my shattered family. Can he make my Mom okay again and bring her back home to stay and be a mom? I was so overwhelmed that I bawled. I remember my oldest sister asking me what was wrong. I was so emotional that I couldn't talk. I just said, "I'm so happy". 

We got to my sister's house and she and her husband were getting ready to go out and I was playing with my niece. My sister and her husband hadn't been gone more than 10 minutes when the doorbell rang. My heart was pounding because I knew the person that I had placed into the "Savior" slot in my life was on the other side of that door. I fixed my hair and looked in the mirror. It would have to do. I opened the door with as much drama as I could only to see my brother Bob standing there with a girl. My brother Bob looked exactly to me how he had looked when I was 4 or 5 and he had left us for what I thought was forever. I later found out that he had been to Vietnam and has children of his own. His hair was extremely long and to me in those days with my Dad always talking about long haired hippies being no good, my first reaction was to recoil. No, it is my brother. I acted like I didn't know who he was and I said, "yes?" He said, "is sis here? I'm her brother Bob." I got so emotional and I said, "no, she isn't here but I know who you are. I'd know you anywhere. You are my brother Bob. I'm your sister Annie!" Okay so this is the part where he lets go of the stringy haired girl's hand and drops his cigarette on the ground and grabs me to him. 

Wake up stupid! That was your dream story. My brother whom I haven't seen in so many years looks at me and says, "good for you. Tell Sis I will be back tomorrow." He turns with his stringy haired girlfriend and walks into the night. My sweet little niece was asleep but I cried and cried for the broken dream that my brother would save our family. I wept and wept and got it all out of my system before any other humans came around. I went into the spare room and put my little niece in the bed with pillows on the other side of her and cuddled with her. Enjoying the fact that this little creature that is so beautiful loves me and laughs at me and wants to be around me. 

I wake up the next morning with my little niece squeezing my nose. The previous night was not forgotten just pushed deep inside so it wouldn't bother me. I wanted to get out of there before my brother came back. I didn't want to see my hero that could care less about how much I love him be so flippant. I didn't realize for many years that drugs were ruling his life. When I say ruling I mean that was the reason he breathed at times, just for his next hit. 

It took me years later when I saw him shooting up some heroine to see that his drug was not much different than the drug I chose. I chose to hide my fears, doubts, sorrow and anguish in food. Sadly for my family my brother Bob didn't make it away from his tempter unharmed. Sadly it took his life. It would be the first slap in my face of a wake up call that changed me forever.

I know this may sound pretty matter of fact but so much more happened with my brother Bob after he stayed around home for a while. To protect myself I had to put up a barrier. I already had my  Mom seemingly hating my guts and I couldn't handle another loved one hating me. I did love Bob, I do love Bob and I heard he was a Born Again Christian before he died. That gives me peace. I can now write stories about him singing with his guitar and praising my real Savior, Jesus Christ! I know that the next time Bob and I meet, he will stop what he is doing and hug me to him and I will know that he is the same hero brother I had years before.