The birth of my second brother.

I remember mom and Gunnar my stepfather talking about it. Mom so excited she was pregnant. I finally had a brother coming. I was so excited. Finally someone to play with, love on, protect and guide. I was going to be a big brother.

We went to the hospital all of us, I had a Polaroid camera I bought at a yard sale and Gunnar had his kodak top of the line 35mm camera for the delivery. I had to wait in the fathers waiting room for hours just sitting there taking pictures and looking dopey excited. I had no idea how babies were even born for all I knew the stork was flying by for a drop off.

The funniest part of the story is Geo is taking all these photos like a fucking news man at a celebrity runway and here he forgets to put film in the camera. I was the only one with pictures of my newborn brother. Imagine that. He was the first born of Gunnar ’s family in America. His family was really excited. Gunnar ’s family was born of Polish and German ancestry, Now also adding Sicilian to the mix. I was so happy to hold him in my arms, I really was. I loved that boy from the first day I saw him. I can still see him in my arms. I find it amazing as a young child to be able to just swap a family in your mind. What was and what now is. I think later in life I blamed myself for that replacement, writing off my dad’s family due to lack of interaction. I know I didn’t realize what I was doing and why, but the drive to reconnect was always there in later years, especially when the acceptance decreased

I of all things even then, wanted to belong somewhere, to someone. So taken it is for granted the simple security that vastly shapes who we are from outcast to a part of. Yet no ones becomes aware of the former when they have the latter. Over the years to come, he would become my closest sibling. Out of everything I ever wanted in life up to that point and beyond. I truly wanted this child, and a bond that hopefully would never break. I was no longer the last of my kind.