My relationship with my brother has always been degrading, at best. From the time that he knew how to erode my patience, to the time that he figured out where the words hit the hardest, he has always been there to offer almost nothing but unsympathetic words. This was a time before he was old enough to be gone all day at a friends house, or to be solemnly studying all night. This was the time when us four kids were forced to spend our time together. This was a time when we did not look for independence or freedom, but for someone to play with and to feed us. We as children were confined to our house most of the time, but one would think that this time spent together would allow us to bond and understand each other. That's a flawed concept in the Westgaard household.
Us kids were seemingly incapable of empathy or morality, the only thing we craved more than food, was power. We sought out each other's weaknesses and insecurities, only to put each other down for a chance at the PS2 or computer. This barbaric mentality decompressed into a madhouse of children, the younger of which often ended up either taken advantage of, or in the arms of a most brutal enforcer. This savage hierarchy thrived through the younger years of adolescence, but as we grew more cunning, so did our tactics for control. The tones became more hushed. The days grew longer into the night. The house fell silent more often, but only to be followed by neolithic outbursts of rage and resentment. This new age of a more conspiratory aggression was soon faded into the darker age of complete neglect. The time spent among each other dissipated as my brother moved off to college, and as my older sister tended to her full time job. These obstacles of interaction don't have to mean the end for a relationship, and they certainly don't have to mean an end for communication, but thats whats happened. My brother and i’s relationship has careened of course into a thick storm of silence. The willing communication and basic shows of empathy have ceased, as a ship would pass forward into the eye of the storm.
The crew knows that they aren't out of harm's way, but they cannot help but feel eerie as they become lulled into a sense of tranquility. I feel as though he simply just does not have the time in his busy schedule, and that he truly does want to know how I feel and what i'm up to, but i'm guarded to this naive tranquillity. I won't let myself fall into the trap of ignoring it and thinking that everything is okay. He is simply too cantankerous to be persuaded to communicate, but every storm, no matter how impregnable, can be traversed. I simply need a means of relating to him on a less personal level to work my way back into his life. The podcast “Brother Brother Brother” engages three brothers in music and discussion of music together as a grounds for relating and communicating between three different brothers of three different decades. The dedication and relationship between these brothers is inspirational as my brother and I aren't in the greatest in our relationship, but the podcast shows me that there is a way. I would rather be hurt by his words. I would rather have him care, even if his only way of showing it is through degradation. I would rather be hurt.
