My beloved Brother

One of my earliest memories was of my biological mother taking a pregnancy test.  I was standing at the bathroom sink with my little toddler hands laced and prayed for a brother.  I got a sister.  I desired a brother so bad when I was younger that when he came along, I took care of him. 

I can clearly remember making him bottles and changing his diapers.  When he was 2, he would hum everything he wanted and I was his translator.  I guess being 6 years older than him, I kind of thought of him as my son in a weird way. 

Dean and I were really close.  We could look at each other and start giggling.  I could never lie to him and he knew that.  We took up for each other as much as we could without getting in too much trouble.  

When he was really little, I would wrestle him.  It was our favorite game.  As we got older, we started playing video games together.  I treasure those memories. 

One time I was reading Dean and Moses the story of Tom Sawyer.  We would play out the book in the yard and pretend we were on an expedition like they were. 

I read a book about a navy seal and told Dean all about it.  He was 8 years old when he decided to become a navy seal.  I helped him with research and encouraged him along the way.  As far as I know, he still wants to be a navy seal. 

When I left to go to school, I missed him so much.  He was the main reason I went home for visits.  Actually, he was the only reason.  I couldn’t imagine a day without him in my life.  He was my June-bug.  A nickname I dubbed him with when he was a tot.  

When I got married and moved away, he called me and told me that I really hurt him when I left and that I needed to get my life on track.  He was spewing out the same vile doctrines that I was taught.  That God would only wait a little while for me to come back to the truth.  I chuckled because I knew he just loved me and missed me.  The next thing he said struck me to my core.  He told me he got on drugs when I left.  He went on to tell me about the role he was playing in the youth group and that he was off the drugs, but he just wanted me to know that I hurt him really bad.  Later I found out that it was just smokeless tobacco that he was calling a drug.  I desired that day to tell him why I left and never looked back, but I couldn’t.

On July 23, I set a text message to my mom and the woman that is married to my Uncle.  I will post it later because it is really awesome.  Basically, I said that I couldn’t allow them in my life because they were protecting a rapist.  I asked them to tell my siblings the truth of why I left, but they are too coward to do that.

They told my beloved brother that I was making up a lie and doing everything I could to protect it.  In reality, I am doing everything I can to make the truth be known of this really sick family. He is so trusting and has such a good heart that I hate to think of him being manipulated by my adopted parents.  I don’t blame him, he doesn’t have a choice but to believe them, he never got to hear my side.

I called him for his 16th birthday in December.  It was all I could think about for a week.  I couldn’t wait to tell him happy birthday.  I called the house first and got my dad.  I basically kept the conversation really short because the last thing I heard him say was he wanted to un-adopt me.  I want to be un-adopted by them.  I remembered that I had my brother’s cellphone number, so I tried that next.

He didn’t answer, but he called back less than 5 minutes later.  I said, “Hi, it’s me, Morgan.”  The next thing I heard was click.  That sound resounded in my heart.  It was like yelling across a canyon and hearing the echos.  It was like a shot to my heart.  It was like electricity pounded through my veins.  All I could do was cry.  The one person I thought in the world that would have my back wouldn’t even let me tell him happy birthday.

The heartbreak that I faced from that was heart wrenching.  I just was dazed.  My beloved brother whom I basically raised, turned his back on me.  It hurt, well hurts, more than I can say.  

I think it is just a side effect of speaking out against the abuse that they made us face.  They are horrible people and that need help.  They have brain washed their kids into believing that I am a horrible person when I did what I had to do to survive.  I know one day that the truth will be known, but until then I know that all I could do was keep loving my brother.   

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