Ah, yes... I sent my brother, a stranger, an invitation to my wedding reception. (Whoa, scary.)
August 1, 2007: He called.
(From what I remember, he looked up my last name in the phone book, ended up calling my in-laws... Who gave some stranger my number. Poor guy. *s*)
That first call was... wild. I don't quite remember how he introduced himself, but once I realized who he was... he was my brother. We talked about a lot that night, about things that were (are) uber-personal, about our families, about our holy-crap-crazy similarities, about how he found us. It was... surreal.
Immediately after that conversation, we traded facebook invites. And blogs. And Picassa albums. And we emailed this exchange:
That night, I was a crazy internet stalker. It was fantastic.
August 2, 2007: We were hooked.
On August 2nd, T forwarded an email that he'd sent to a friend in 2004. That email was asking the friend to compare a photo that he'd found online, a photo of our little brother, to one of himself. As far as I know, that was the first time that it had occurred to T that he had siblings that he'd never met...
Again that day, T wrote "I guess it's why I don't just see pictures of strangers when I see pictures of you both. It was kinda like meeting the rest of the extended family - you're in a room with complete strangers whom you've never spoken with, yet you're talking to them like you've known each other your whole life- because there's just something there, in the eyes I think, that feels like home"
On August 7 (after a week of late-night stalking, multiple phone calls, and many online chats), he wrote:
So it could be argued that we've had enough time to think about it, and we should definitely start arranging some sort of event to bring the two of us closer together. Then again, a lot of things could be argued, and why start with an argument? Fact is, I'm finding we really haven't chatted enough to write in any sort of style other than brief and formal so I'm finding it difficult to write this email, because I am anything but brief, and anything but formal. Under the circumstances this is what seems most appropriate for the entire content of the email:
"Hey Nat, super excited to meet you some day soon. There's lots of reasons we can think of to make the trip up to Edmonton if that works, but we're totally open to anything you might be interested in, and our schedule is a bit complicated but I'm sure we can sort something out."
Which is to the point, contains only facts, and is on all accounts utterly boring and devoid of personality. See, what I really want to do is write a 16 page letter describing the hyper-inane details of something akin to-- say the time I learned to ride a Zonkey. Unfortunately I have never ridden a Zonkey, and my opportunity to do so has been severely limited by the simple fact that I have never actually seen a Zonkey -- although I have lately been informed that they do in fact exist and perhaps given the opportunity I might throw a leg over, clutch the mane (assuming it grows one) and ride off into the sunset. Sadly, until that day comes where I stand nose to muzzle with that majestic cross-breed I suppose I will have to stick to the 'akin'. Besides, when I get right down to it, I can't really decide on how that is relevant to my purpose...
All Zonkey's aside, what bothers me at this point is that I feel this sense of kinship with a group of colored pixels representing an individual at a certain period of time in her life, and not the individual herself. I find this uncomfortable, as there is no doubt the individual is exponentially more interesting, and quite possibly easier to embrace than my computer monitor. (Anticipating the obvious question now, let me state for the record that I have never purposely and for the satisfaction of any need to show emotional connection, embraced my computer monitor. I have at times been known to take it in my arms as a cautious way to transport it from room to room, up a set of stairs, or into a moving van for instance, but in all cases though it could be described as 'gingerly' I assure you it was never tender, or lasting.) Even with all this in my mind, I found myself still trying in some way to organize what is "me" into a series of digital bits so that she too could feel the same sort of e-kinship (if I have to feel awkward then why not make everyone else that way?) and I was not altogether content with the kaleidescope of images that I could provide. Subsequently, in order to allay the uncomfortable feeling that accompanied this unique and strange predicament, I decided that perhaps the alphabet might in some way enhance the experience to a level more tolerable. Unable yet to find the words to write to you in an email, the initial arrangements were cryptic and expressive prose which spoke of the quiet beauty of the universe, a connection to close friends, the ethereal bond we have as the human-nation, and when I was finished I realized that I had done some wonderful things like spoken to friends I hadn't heard from in a while, understood those nagging temporary insecurities that were haunting my present (now past) self and thought-- 'Man, that's some good stuff...' and then I promptly recovered from this self-reflective space of musing and philosophy only to realize that these fluid and mostly meaningless word arrangements now seem grossly inadequate. Moreover, I have new nagging temporary insecurities that haunt my present. Oh, woe-is-me!
At this moment it occurs to me to point out that I don't believe I have ever had the inclination to write out 'woe-is-me' in any letter I have previously written, much less had the wherewithal to place it in context. Furthermore, it is not a word that is often present in my everyday vernacular; in fact I have probably used 'vernacular' more often. This of course reveals both a latent affiliation with those dubbed 'nerdy' and a sense that you're probably not getting an accurate portrait of who I am through all these words. Or maybe you are...
But then we're back to arguing again, and why start there? Still, it is an interesting thing to write 'woe-is-me' which is why I have chosen to write it one more time.
Having written the past few paragraphs now, it is important to look back and ascertain what has been said. I'll save you the trouble- nothing. But the nothing that has been written is quite possibly more interesting, engaging, or at least as scary, tough, or uncomfortable as say jumping off cliffs to feed kangaroos might be... the image of which spawned a number of early morning desk-cartoons attempting to capture that poetic moment where a female kayaker descends a waterfall to the carnivorous kangaroos that wait, fanged mouths agape, for their food to fall from the heavens... but I digress...
In the end we show others they are cared about by engaging them where they are. Having exhausted that online, all that is left is to make an attempt at it in the 'real world' and that is where I believe my impatience and desire to do so is coming from. At the end of the day (and it seems that this letter has allowed me to make it there) this is all really just a really long way of me saying;
"Hey Nat, super excited to meet you some day soon. There's lots of reasons we can think of to make the trip up to Edmonton if that works, but we're totally open to anything you might be interested in, and our schedule is a bit complicated but I'm sure we can sort something out."
If you have made it this far, then I congratulate you, not many people do. If at this point you are second guessing your original intent of making contact, or saying "Holy shit, what have I done?" then stay calm, I'm sure you aren't the first... no seriously... I'm just trying to have a bit of fun... at no other's expense but my own. If I've offended in anyway then I apologize most sincerely. If neither of those thoughts had, up to the moment you read them, entered your mind, then let's start a real dialogue... something less contrived and more risky than email, shall we? We'll get the calendars out, make some decisions, walk out of our comfort zones and into the magical world that is 'recovered estrangement' where the monkeys and unicorns dance the tango to the kickin' disco beats of the fairy queen DJ and her band of merry men.
Or something.
I may not like boats, sport any 'bitchin' tat's, or have ever considered entering an extreme race... but I've done my best to taste life and everything in it, on my own terms. Andrea and I both find ourselves compelled by the story that you've made for yourselves (As a couple --you and Steve, and as individuals -- you and Scott). At times we're intimidated by the talent and tenacity you all seem to employ, but then our friends like us in spite of ourselves, so why wouldn't you? More than anything else, I just want to have fun getting to know you all, and I hope we can find a way to do that well. If it means to sit around a coffee shop in Lacombe some evening to make bigger arrangements so-be-it. If I have to drive to Edmonton for a pint at some local tavern still mourning the loss of Ryan Smith, I would consider it... but if you want to meet in Churchill anytime soon... you're more extreme than I thought and I'm going to have to bow out. But do throw some of your crazier ideas out there, 'cause who knows what you can get me to agree to!?
Most importantly, until things settle themselves...
Be good, be you...
t.
(He said that I could publish that if I corrected his overuse of commas. But I think his use of commas is lovely. Also - you can hardly tell we're related based on writing style, eh? Heh. Wanna hear about what happened next?)p.s. if I have two half brothers and a half sister, do my parents now have 2.5 children?
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