Baby Daddy

My "baby daddy" is my brother. 

I know that sounds horrible (and kind of sickly humorous to me) but I will expound.

• I am the oldest of five, followed by my sister, my brother D, then two younger half-brothers.
• My adopted daughter, L, is actually my biological niece. The second (that we know of) child of my brother D.
• My (in process) adopted son, G, is my daughter's half-brother.
• My brother claims to be G's dad and is the "presumed father" by court rule.
• Currently, he is in jail, awaiting transfer to state prison in Florida. He is sentenced to 18 years for stabbing a man, who subsequently died. Yes, I am putting it lightly. For my own sake.

I deeply care about and want to say I love my brother but I don't really know him as a man. We have been estranged for many years due to his homelessness and drug abuse.  I love the little boy I remember. I was almost six years-old when he was born.  He was my first baby.

I ADORED him and eagerly helped my mom care for him.  He was quiet and very sweet natured. When I look back at his baby pictures, it is hard to find one where he isn't smiling. He was born blonde and blue eyed, taking after my maternal grandmother. Strikingly different looking than my sister and me, who were very obviously little Mexican girls. Eventually he got his brown eyes but his hair stayed light until he was about two years old. There is no doubt now that he is my father's son, however, my dad was not amused when people would ask if he was adopted. 

When was about five years-old, he picked bouquets for all the ladies in the neighborhood. I think he tore the flowers out of their own yards, but they didn't seem to mind. He had a few pet hamsters and he cared for them gently. He would spend time taking things apart and then reassembling them, like watches, to find out how they worked. A smart, sweet boy with so much potential. What a shame he got lost. Lost, in the way small, quiet kids become when their parents get divorced and fail to pay attention when they should.

As mentioned in my first post, I felt obligated to adopt my my niece and nephew. One of those obligations I felt was from the guilt I had about failing to save my brother, somehow. We were both growing up at the same time, in the same place and same family but worlds apart. By the time I was finishing high-school, he was in his early teens, suffering from dyslexia and getting into trouble. I am shocked, now, to hear about the things he has done. I regret not paying attention to him more.

I hope I can help my children to appreciate one another and become true friends, not just siblings.