I am a woman, strong, smart, funny, and sexy .  Bold statement, I know, but I can back it all up with facts, if I have to.  I have had many significant achievements in my life.  I won a few awards, for writing, acting, making sales plans, etc.  I have made friends and influenced people.   I am proud of all of these things.   The reason I started with the line I did, was to make the point, that, I am, first and foremost, a woman, and as such, my greatest achievement in my life, is as a mother.  I, along with a large group of step-parents, grandparents, and their father, of course, helped to raise some pretty outstanding young men.  They are strong, independent (for the most part), respectful, and they can both cook!  They are hard workers, in their jobs, and they take care of their families.

I don’t ever write, stressing about who will read these entries, and I am not afraid that either one of my sons will likely see anything here, and think I have said anything out of turn.  I am, however, mindful of the fact that their wives both follow, and some of this stuff might be new to them.  That being the case, it might also give them a little insight into the men they have chosen to father their children, and share their lives with.

I have previously discussed being an early Mom.  I don’t necessarily, usually class myself as a “young” mother, because I had a maturity that some women, much older, when they start having children, don’t seem to possess.  I do, however, consider myself  a young Nana, because I have a much more youthful attitude then most.  I think both have served me well, and continue to be an asset to my kids and their kids.  I don’t intend to grow old gracefully, and never plan to, ever, fully grow up.

When Daniel was born, I lived at home, for the first 9 months of his life.  For some unknown reason, I foolishly believed it in his best interest, to marry his father, so he could have a full-time place in his son’s life.  Oh, how mistaken I was.  In hindsight, there were so many signs that the stress and chaos that we came to live with, as adults, greatly affected my son.  For the first year of our marriage, I was still going to community college, while he worked evenings at the local textile mill.  My son spent a great deal of time with his paternal grandmother, because my, then husband, had to workout.  Daniel also spent many weekends, staying with my parents, because it was easier, for everyone.  He was happier there, because, I am sure his young psyche sensed the tension and anguish he was surrounded with.

Although his biological father, was never physically abusive towards me before we got married, there were red flags that the potential was there.  I would see them a mile away now, believe me.  He controlled who I saw, where I went, the finances, how I wore my hair.  I lost so much of myself, before he ever laid a hand on me.  I do, sometimes minimalize it by saying, he never kicked the crap out of me, or made me bleed, and that I left after the third time he hit me.  Truly, once is too many.  I know for me, it was such a shock the first time, I couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened.  I chalked it up as a fluke, and believed him, as we all do, that it would never happen again.  The day I decided I needed to get us both out of the situation, I watched this pumped up, bulked up meathead, destroy my son’s wooden high chair with his fists, and I, for a flash second, saw myself as the probable next target.

So, I moved back home, with my young son, who has no memory of ever having lived with” The Sperm Donor”.  That is a blessing.  There was always fighting between us, in some form or another, and even when he had visitation weekends, Daniel spent a lot of that time with his family, not his father.  As a result, he has an amazing relationship with a lot of great people, who have NONE of his father’s negative qualities, and whom I still consider family, myself.

As hard as it was to pick up and move away from my family, the distance made the fighting stop completely, when I married my second husband. There was still the odd argument, like when he stopped paying child support, and we took him back to court.  Little things that were easily dealt with.  I honestly could probably write a book just on this topic, but that wasn’t my intention when I started this post.  I called it “Brotherhood” for a reason.

Within 2 months of getting remarried, and jumping into life as an “Army wife”, I was pregnant.  Daniel had just turned three, the month before.  I bring that up, only in the context that, up until this point in his life, he had never had to share any of our attentions with another child.  I can honestly say, that I don’t feel he was ever jealous of his little brother.  He had every reason to maybe feel that way.  I had always had to share him with my parents, and, please don’t get me wrong when I say that, I am eternally grateful that they did all that they did to help us.  When Jeremy was born, I hated it when anyone picked him up.  I never told anyone that, or kept anyone from doing it, but I didn’t want to share another baby.  Selfish thing to say, I know, but I honestly believe I kept that buried pretty deep.

So, we have a tiny baby, and a big brother, who loved to help, running for diapers, pushing the stroller, holding him.  We have tons of family photos with lots of laughs and big smiles, doing lots of normal family fun stuff, but keep in mind, there are four years between my boys.  That wasn’t so significant until Jeremy got mobile.  Then he got into Daniel’s stuff.  Oh dear, then he started to talk, and by talk, I mean argue.  Any of you who know my kids, know there is a HUGE size difference between them.  Daniel was always short and stocky, and Jeremy, the exact opposite.  As they grew, that was the constant battle, when thy went to battle.  Even though Jeremy may have deserved a good smack from Daniel, he could have done serious damage. Daniel would be rich if he had a dollar for every time I said something about him being so much bigger than his brother, I swear.

The older they got, the more they fought.  They fought about anything and everything.  Jeremy picked, and Daniel couldn’t ignore.  Granted, we always said Jeremy should be a lawyer, because he loved to argue, and he would, often times just not stop, and push his brother to the point of no return.  I swear, they could argue the colour of the sky.  The trip back and forth to Nova Scotia, to see my parents could be torture.  It used to be a 6 hour trip, years ago, and they might not let up, unless one of them fell asleep.  Many a time, we threatened, and actually did, turn around, just to prove a short-lived point.

As a mother, it often made me crazy.  As adults, I think, most of us realize that, often times friends come and go, but family is forever.  It hurt me every time they said they hated each other, or they got close to coming to blows. Talking to them didn’t help.  Yelling at them stopped working very, very young.  They frustrated me to the point of tears.  That was when they always got the point.  If they made Mom cry, they knew they had gone too far.  Neither one of them liked to see me cry.  Did I use that to my advantage a time or two, why yes I did, and I am certainly not ashamed to say it.

The older they got, the more I feared they would never get along.  It took the toughest move in my life, so far, to change it all around.  When the opportunity to move out West arose, I honestly thought I was ready for a new phase of my life.  Then plan was for Jeremy to move with us, and Daniel to stay behind.  We were going to take the trip out as an extended family vacation, have some fun seeing the sights coming across this, magnificent country of ours, and then Daniel would fly back and live in Oromocto.  We did have some great times, but they fought.  And, at some point, their positions flip flopped.

To say I was heartbroken when my baby told me he wanted to go back to live with his Dad, in the only place he has ever lived,  would be like saying the Grand Canyon is a kind of a big hole.  I was hurt that either one of my kids wouldn’t be living with me, but Daniel was done school, and I felt was to the point that he, maybe didn’t need me as much.  Jeremy was still so young in my eyes, and still needed his mother.  OK, maybe his mother still needed him to need her.  I can admit that.

Well, to turn this story back into relevance to the title, the two boys who had grown up, to this stage, fighting and wanting to knock each other around, were now separated, except for twice yearly visits, by almost an entire country.  What may not have been the best decision, for me, personally, has ended up being the catalyst needed to bring two brothers, back to being brothers, and more notably, friends.  Jeremy was a groomsman in his brother’s wedding, and they both talked of how much they loved each other, and how far they had come in their relationship, in their speeches.  This past summer, when Jeremy got married, I felt they had come full circle.  Daniel was his brother’s best man.  Did I ever imagine, in all those years of them being so hostile towards one another, that we would be seeing them so close? I had dreamed it, yes, and hoped it, beyond all hopes, but to see it, brings tears to my eyes as I write this.  The two boys who could hardly stand each other, are best friends, who would today, do battle for each other against anyone and anything.  It is truly amazing, and something I am thankful for every day.  It has not been any easy road, by any stretch, but the journey has come to such a successful conclusion, it has made all the bumps and twists, completely worth it.  I have always known that they loved each other, but now THEY know it too!  The gratification in that, alone, is tough to adequately put into words.  I have tried, here, and in the speeches I gave at both their weddings.  I honestly should transcribe those from the videos some day, cause that was some good stuff, I totally add libbed.  That was random, I know, forgive me.

I don’t know what it was, be it the age gap, the situational gap, the fundamental difference in their initial beginnings in life, that caused such a rift in my sons’ relationship, but the sheer strength of it now, is really all that matters.  It’s a shame it took so much distance to do that, as the distance now makes it so difficult sometimes.  It puts me, as a mother in such a tough spot sometimes, because I often feel like, I let Jeremy down being here, and not there.  He has the strength and support of his father and family there, that Daniel wouldn’t have, if I were to go back home, so I do take comfort in that.  I know that Jeremy, and Mel now, know that I am a phone call and a plane ride away, if they ever need me, but it is still hard on me sometimes.  I still cry like it’s the first time I put him on that plane, when we leave each other.  Yes, I am an emotional person, but I feel deeply, I love deeply,and I hurt deeply.  I don’t think that is a bad thing, not one bit!