GRANDMA GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER

“There’s an old proverb that says you can’t choose your family. You take what fates hand you. And like them or not, love them or not, understand them or not…you cope..”--Grey’s Anatomy

 This Christmas was probably one of my favorite Christmas’.  I was surrounded by family, friends, good food, and lots of love. What more could I have possibly wanted? Well, I have an answer to this: I want, more than anything, to have a relationship with my younger brother.  

            He has this chip on his shoulder that “the world is out to get me.” One glance or one small, insignificant thing said to him makes him blow up. I had said something to him (I cannot even remember what), he got up and left the room and started going off at me at the kitchen table. My aunt said to him, “You know Matt you can’t choose your family, so you will just have to tolerate them.” She is absolutely right.

          There are times when I want nothing more than to beat my family with a giant walking stick. They have this major obsession that I need to hurry up, find a boyfriend, get married, and have kids. I am perfectly fine living the single life. I am enjoying me—even if it is completely selfish, I am enjoying me. My family also has a major obsession with me finding and going to church. I am not really willing to discuss that at the moment. My relationship with God is between myself and God—no one else. When I feel the need to go to church and further that relationship with God, or restore that relationship with God—then I’ll go. But, for now—I’m just having a hard time figuring it all out. I still pray and talk to God—he knows my heart and he can be the judge. My family needs to back off.

Besides all the criticism for being single and not being a church-goer, I know that my family will be there to support me and help me 100%, whenever I need it. That’s what matters. The fighting doesn’t matter. The love and support and knowing I have someone who will always be there, does.

            My brother may never grow up or change. The chip on his shoulder just might grow into a boulder and I will never be able to have a relationship with him. I’ve tried to show interest in the things he likes, but he just won’t engage in the conversation. I’ve asked him to go somewhere fun with me, like the mall or out to eat and he hangs up the phone. It hurts and it’s sad that he doesn’t even want to try. I’m trying. My mom just keeps saying, “Just kill him with kindness.”

So, I will. I will never understand why he has chosen to be the way he is, but maybe someday—years down the road, he will change—and I will welcome him. He is my baby brother, after all.