Letting Go
Sat, 09 Jun 2007.
“Oh that’s right, they’re closed for the holidays.”
Cafe Stax, easily the favorite haunt of the LMS team during that final year of uni, had shut its doors for a few weeks. I remember I stopped by months before during the mid-year break and the owner lamented how business suffered when the students were away.
I was out in Melbourne with my brother, Andrew, that day. We settled on the newly opened Wagamama at QV and slurped away on trendy ramen. The summer heat had put me in the mood for something spicy and I sat there sweating inwardly, counting the remaining chillies in my bowl.
James, my youngest brother, was still in school. Exams were over but the school year wasn’t so he was expected to show up and do busywork for a few weeks.
I don’t normally socialize like this with my brothers. Being my brothers, I’d kill for them if necessary (or even if it’s just vaguely convenient) but it’s accurate to say I never hang out with Andrew outside of the home unless it’s a family outing. We are more family than friends, if that makes any sense.
I guess I was doing something different that day. I would be leaving for Seattle in a few months and god knows how long it would be until I return. The day was a catharsis for me; relinquishing my role as the responsible, overachieving older brother and watching how Andrew carried himself as a young man.
It felt good to let go of that protective older brother role. I felt something more than pride; I felt like this was a job well done. Despite whatever fuck-ups or war crimes I could commit in the future, here stand my two brothers: two brilliant young men who living proof that I’ve done at least one worthwhile thing with my life. Even though I’ve known them their entire lives, it still surprises me how they are such a big part of my life.
