Anger, speech, listening

James 1:19
My dear brothers and sisters, be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to get angry.

What a fantastic verse. I notified my brother about a week ago that I would be driving to Lynchburg on Sunday, yesterday, to visit my nephew Julian. Julian has moved out of my brother’s home, he’s eighteen and has moved in with a neighbor. I think that it is fair to say, because I haven’t been told otherwise, that my brother and his wife are angry because Julian has moved out. I think also that they are angry because they didn’t respond to my notification that I’d be coming up and they weren’t around at all yesterday. It felt like they were avoiding me, but there is nothing new in those actions.

All of this is fine. All of this is sad, confusing and in some aspects very tragic. For years I have been guilty of not speaking my mind to my brother and his wife because I didn’t want to upset the apple cart. I wanted to maintain some semblance of family unity and some semblance of a relationship. Despite this effort the relationship between us has fragmented terribly, recently I spoke my mind after years of not doing so. For years my brother and his wife drifted away from me despite my attempt to play nice and I believed that it all had to do with what I am, a gay man. I don’t think that this is the case any longer.

My brother is loyal to his wife and I respect that. I disagree with their heavy handed methods of child rearing, both physically and emotionally. I disagree with their isolation. I disagree with the favoritism shown to some of their seven children. What has occurred to me recently with respect to the strained relationship is that I am out, disowned too, because I cannot be manipulated and controlled. Recently I have learned to speak my mind and tell it like I see it and I think that I do so respectfully with thought and contemplation.

I do believe in my brother’s home that these actions leave one persona non grata. Julian is a testament to this; he couldn’t stay there any longer, had to move away for his own well being and is now disowned. I could write a book on the psychosis of disowning a child survivor of Rwanda and an orphan brought to the US at 15 years and then disowned but I won’t right now. I certainly don’t respect those actions and when I questioned them I was told to not speak of something I knew little about.
Similarly six months ago I pointed out to my brother the fact that for twelve years he and his wife have made no inquiry as to what my parents and I were doing for the holidays. This discussion lead to a full fledge melt down where my mother and in absentia I, were accused of being liars for not saying something sooner. In my mind that’s a large leap. Why on Earth would we say something sooner we knew the reaction would be a melt down and bingo it was?

So, following James’ advice I was slow to speak and look where it got me, estranged. I admit that I have been quick to listen and process and perhaps that’s where my brother and his wife feel the need to disconnect. I have connected all of the dots, heard all of the inconsistencies, processed all of the stories and exaggerations and that makes them uncomfortable and me expendable. I have processed through my anger and yes I have been angry. Now, the anger is gone, thankfully I didn’t act on it last go around and with this posting I am closing the door on this sad, sordid chapter. Well maybe, then again maybe not, I may have to chew on all of it some more until there is no taste left.