My Brother

This might not be a good topic to write about since some of the people in it are still alive and kicking, but I think it is worthy. 

When I was a young married lady, I went home to Oak Park, IL, to visit my folks one weekend.  My brother had graduated from high school and was supposedly going to DeVry Institute of Technology in the Chicago area--something my parents supported.  When I arrived at the house, Doug and his 15-year-old girl friend were there, briefly, before he took her home.  Debby looked kind of bad.  I said to Mom, "I don't mean to sound 'catty', but what's the matter with Debby?"  Mom's response floored me.  "Other than the fact that she's six months pregnant, nothing."  Whoa!  I had no idea!

A couple of weeks later, my husband and I joined my parents in a rented cottage in Wisconsin--a place they had set aside months before as a vacation spot--but there was no vacation about it.  Mom filled me in on the events that had gone on.  Mom was very, very emotionally upset.  Dad was, too, but not visibly.  I only heard about it. 

The story went that Debby became pregnant by Doug.  He had gone to everyone he could think of to borrow funds for an abortion--except our parents or other family, who weren't told.  When the time passed for a "safe" abortion to be performed, and Debby was beginning to show, Doug confessed the situation to our parents.  He wanted to do the honorable thing and marry Debby.  According to Mom, Dad was inconsolable--sick to his stomach--to think that his son couldn't find it in his heart to come to him with this.  Mom was just a mess. 

Doug and Debby had thrown in with a youth pastor at a church in Oak Park.  A joint meeting with the pastor and the two sets of families was set up in order to determine what was best for everyone, including the child-to-be.  Doug was an irresponsible youth, not yet "of age".  (Emancipation in those days--early 70s--was 21.  Doug was maybe 19.  Debby was 15.)  In the course of the meeting, it was decided by all parties--his and hers--that marriage was out of the question.  Debby's parents sent her to the Booth Memorial Home for Unwed Mothers (Salvation Army) in Chicago to finish out her pregnancy and the birth of the baby.  Doug joined the Navy, unbeknownst and unapproved by our parents.  He had promised Debby's family that he would pay for Debby's care, but he had no means to do that.  Our parents did.  They paid his commitment.

When Doug announced to the folks that he had joined the Navy, Mom said, "They won't take you without our approval."  His response?  "They already did.  I leave for Boot Camp on Friday."  She was devastated, but that Friday morning, she got him out of bed to take him to the bus that would transport him to the Great Lakes Navy Training Center.  He had been out the night before and had tied one on.  When she roused him, he was still drunk.  So drunk, in fact, that he was trying to scrape the ice off the windshield of her car...but it was June!  I can only imagine the hangover he felt that day--his first day of Boot Camp!

Six or eight weeks later, I went up with the folks to his BC graduation.  The mood had changed from "no!" to "what next?".  Doug went on to his Navy career for the next seven or nine years.  In the meantime, Debby gave birth to a girl on August 6th--my mother's birthday.  The child was immediately given up for adoption, but my mother was forever haunted on her birthday--that out there, somewhere, she had a grandchild that she would never be able to hold or know.

Debby went on with her life. Doug went on with his. I don't think the two of them ever saw each other again. Flash forward many years. In those days, Doug and I probably talked by phone once a week. He was out of the Navy and had a position as an electrician at a factory in the Chicago area, while he continued to live in Oak Park. He was becoming a sentimental dude--stubborn as the day is long, but totally enamored of the past. At one point, he had registered on a website called "BirthRight" or something like that, where adopted children could find their birth parents, if they wanted to. One day close to Christmas, I got a call from Doug. He was ecstatic. His daughter had been looking for him and had connected!  He found out that his daughter's name was Lisa, she was married, and that he was a grandfather.  I'll never forget how euphoric he sounded.  I truly think this was the happiest day of his life.  He had never married.  Lisa was his only offspring.

Lisa had already found her birth mother, and they were forming a friendship.  Doug met with Lisa a few times, but then suddenly cut things off.  This is hard to explain, but I think I was told that he had decided that Lisa's being in touch with her birth parents--especially her mother--was going to interfere in her real life, and Doug didn't want to be a part of that.  He let her go without explanation. 

A few years later, Doug got sideways with my sister and I about the sale of the family farm.  (I've written about this before.)  He didn't want to sell, but the four other partners in the farm did.  He could forgive our cousins, but he couldn't forgive Shari or me.  He declared that we were dead to him, and he was a man of his word.  There would be no further contact between us, no matter how much we tried.  And then Doug died, suddenly, with only Shari and me to take charge of his arrangements.  It was a sobering responsibility.

I was in a quandary about his daughter.  I didn't know anything about her but her name.  I didn't know if she would want to be a part of her birth father's funeral...or even would want to know...but I quickly decided that she should be told.  A friend of mine got on the Internet and quickly got a phone number for her, and I called.  Yes, she did want to know about his arrangements.  And so it was that, on a very horrible weather day in mid-January in Central Illinois, we got to meet our niece for the first time.  Doug was buried with military honors.  Shari and I insisted that Lisa be given his flag, and she graciously accepted.  She was present at his funeral and was present at the meal provided at the American Legion afterward.  It was a beginning, of sorts, prompted by an ending.

Later--I'm not sure how long--I invited Lisa and family to come to visit in my little house-on-a-slab.  She and Lydia, Doug's granddaughter, and German Shepherd Crowley came for a weekend.  We spent many long hours on the patio talking about family...things that she never knew about half of her birth family.  When she talked about how Doug had just cut her off, I came to realize that she had felt abandoned twice by her real father.  My heart broke for her.  She was an adult with a 10-year-old child of her own at that time, but the tears on her face told me that she still hurt. 

I haven't seen Lisa or Lydia since, although we are friends on Facebook.  She is a home-schooling mother and a totally liberal thinker.  She doesn't live all that far from my daughter, so I think the next time I am in the Chicago area, we should arrange a get-together.  I think we would all get along famously.  Lisa's husband is into computer stuff.  My son-in-law is a Senior Software Engineer with Google (Motorola Mobility)...and I think my grandchildren would totally enjoy their family of rats and quail and household pets.  I'm going to suggest that!