There is only one thing that I regret on the daily about myself and the selfish years I spent away from my family. I regret leaving my little brother behind. I regret that he was the collateral damage in my war against my parents, but more specifically my dad. He didn’t deserve that from me because all he has ever given me from the day that he was born was his love and his trust.
He and I had one of those large splits (9+ years) which comes almost part and parcel with the modern Black family. His biological father was Mr.PENN, and if you were to ask me about my father, DALLAS, I wouldn’t have been able to describe him. Mr.PENN was the only dad that I ever knew. DALLAS had been a computer engineer when he and my mom were married. Back when computers had fuse bulbs and were the size of living rooms. He worked for Columbia University and the perks there included a plush apartment on Riverside Drive. My mom always tells me about the maids’ room. That was all before the alcohol and that white bitch heroin became his new fidelity.
Crestfallen and abused my mom returned to the safety of Queens. To her mother’s mother’s house in the quiet neighborhood called Corona. She returned to college after having left Howard University to elope with DALLAS. She worked during the day. She attended night classes at New York University. That is where she met Mr.PENN. I know this story because mom still has the mind to recall it. As far as I knew when I was a kid there was only Mr.PENN.
KITO which is Ibo for precious jewel was born on a cold March Friday in 1979. He was a handful of trouble for someone who had become accustomed to being alone. KITO and I had to share a bedroom because my dad’s younger brother lived with us too after their dad had passed away in Petersburg, VA. KITO was always into my shit like my AFX collection, my baseball cards and my most prized possessions, which were my comic books.
My mom told me that he liked to mess with that stuff because he saw the attention that I poured into my hobbies. Try telling an eleven year old that he has to let his kid brother ‘read’ his comic books. I mean he couldn’t even read and he drooled on my books. Nonetheless, my dad would make me share with my brother. His lesson to me was to watch how he took care of his own brother because one day he and my mom would be gone and there would only be KITO and I left remaining. So I begrudgingly shared my time and my toys. To tell you the truth it really wasn’t all bad having a kid brother. He was my Saturday morning cartoon remote control. He knew how to mix a can of soda with a cup of Kool-Aid. He was my personal umbrella holder.
My dad never stopped drilling the idea into my head that I had to look out for my brother. And I did as much when ever we were outside in the neighborhood. I was years older than all of his peers and I was one of the popular kids in our enclave so he was protected and secure. That was until I became a teenager. Whatever hormone that clicked inside of my brain that told me that I no longer needed to heed my parents’ advice doomed my relationship with my brother. I argued and fought with my parents often and poor KITO would be in his room under the covers crying. What else would you do if you were six years old and the people that you depended upon for guidance and support were at each others’ throats.
My problem was that I was still so selfish. Nothing mattered to me, but me. I wasn’t mature enough to understand that my fractured relationship with my parents put my brother in no man’s land. He loved my parents dearly, but I was his idol. This has to be similiar to the emotional ravine that children of divorce face. My behavior in their house and my illicit conduct outside of it left my parents little choice but to expel me, even though it was before my eighteenth birthday. I can remember the tears in my brother’s eyes when I packed up a duffle bag and an oversized black garbage bag. I don’t think he thought he would see me again.
I knew that wasn’t the case at all, but I was so stupid and reckless and I was determined to prove a point to my parents. I thought that my brother would be taken care of since my dudes that I came up with were still close by. VICEBERG was one of my oldest friends and his mother was my baby brother’s GODmother. S.W. was another dude that I had trusted with my life on many, many occasions. I thought that I could trust him with my brother as well. My ego was naive and self-centered so instead of leaving my brother with friends I had unwittingly left him with the wolves. They devoured his heart and his mind and left him without hope in utter despair. There will be some stories that I relate to you in this forum that are for adult eyes and ears only. You will learn about my wanton depravity, my failures and my almost execution. These unadulterated stories are not for children and by relating these events to a child you create an emotional void that is almost impossible to fill.
I can’t blame those boys for filling my brothers head with my nonsense. It was my job to be my brother’s keeper and I failed miserably. My brother went to the other side of the neighborhood just as I did. When I fell into the throes of cocaine and methamphetamine abuse my kid brother was being turned on to chronic by one of the dudes I previously mentioned. All the while being told that I was doing the same thing that he was. I realize now that was my fault, and my fault alone.
My brother’s arrest for assault and robbery is because of me. My brother’s failure to complete high school is my doing. His jail sentence can be traced to the night that I left my parents’ home. On these pages you will come to see how my immature foolish ego has caused me to lose everything that I ever cared about. However, all is not lost yet. Although Mr.PENN has joined the great GOD in the sky the old Earth still remains. As does the precious jewel.
GOD please help me to reclaim my precious jewel.
This post almost had me in tears. I hope everything is okay between you and your brother. Peace out.
your true story game is unparalled my dude.
Wow. Echo eskay’s note, and though there’s no proper response to the issue of brotherly guilt, I can second that it’s deep. That’s just in general, not even when things are as intense as in you’re telling.
oh sugar sugar know that as long as he is alive you still have a chance. i have one in the grave and the mending never ends!
B, the one thing that is the essence of man’s downfall is GUILT! The waters that we travel through that create this thing we called life is filled with mysteries far beyond what our little minds can comprehend. The stifling box we’ve created to give us a semblence of understanding of said mysteries is religion as we know it and guilt. The beauty of our lives is that it starts from THIS MOMENT ON! Stop crucifying yourself and unload your burden young man. That ish is a cancer that has the potential to eventually destroy you. You did nothing wrong, just lived your life as you knew how to. Your brother’s karma is not yours, never has been, and most importantly, the past no longer exists! Believe me, one truly mans up when, instead of dragging a load of filthy, dark, EVIL guilt baggage to their early grave, they take responsibility for their actions, past and present in order to create value out of it all and become MASTERS OF LIFE!!! Thanks sincerely for sharing. Looking forward to you moving victoriously beyond this.
Dallas dude like Eskay is right and so is Combact Jack. My two sense can be echoed in your last sentence. “GOD please help me to reclaim my precious jewel.” Start today forget the past and live in the moment.
Ps: Hindsight is always 20/20
This was a great piece of writing and probably the most alluring stories of all the “When I Reminesce”. The pictures really drew me into the story. As eskay said, your true story writing in unparalleled. If you wrote a book, I’d buy it.
Family.
“Whatever hormone that clicked inside of my brain that told me that I no longer needed to heed my parents’ advice doomed my relationship with my brother. I argued and fought with my parents often and poor KITO would be in his room under the covers crying. What else would you do if you were six years old and the people that you depended upon for guidance and support were at each others’ throats.”
Me, Bronx Logic and Black Bill Clinton have been building on some words that my 7, count them 7 rehab deep father shared with me last week which is “Our life’s work is dealing with the disruptions that occured during our childhoods, only when we do that will we be able to progress accordingly”.
Survivors guilt is the truth and I am right there with you. Sh*t I feel like WE related.
The picture of you two, where he is sorta leaning into you is so powerful.
Your teenage swagger is evident in how you address the camera.
His love for you obvious by the way his face beams and how he leaned in.
At the end of the day, we are all members of our families.
I can’t believe I am actually sitting here in front of this computer crying the way I am right now. But I know why I am, my heart goes out to you and your brother. I want to tell you that your email has helped me though. I have a son who has the same attitude with his little brother right now, that you did all those years ago. He is 15 and his brother 9. He also lives with a stepfather who is the only father he has known until recently. I am going to share this with him and hopefully by your mistakes you will have helped someone else. I hope for you that will ease some of your guilt. Thankyou:)
What you cherish hold with both hands and keep it close.
Deep…..you truly are in tune with life homie…..
Wow.
Look man. You’ve got to check out MsRobyn’s comment. This piece made a difference.
dear fam,
thank you, thank you, thank you for your feedback. this page acts as my therapy sometimes and I needed to get that vibe off my chest. rest assured that I don’t live my life in regret of my past. there are just some moments I wish that I had been a better person, but now I use the little time that I have left to the fullest.
I wanted to put a word out to family member Msrobyn who is dealing with a teenage boy in her cipher right now. please Msrobyn don’t ever let him forget that when all of you adults have gone that only those two brothers will have each other to rely upon. teenage years are difficult for boys, especially Black boys because their peer groups are strongly influenced by mass media (music, television, playstation, movies, etc.)
more than anything else, remind yourself to remind him that you love him. show him the path through your actions and when his days become dark he will remember to return to the path.
dun you just gave him that o so necessary thugacation, keep poppin them thangz in the streets and teaching little girls to dip it low and drop it like its HOT like in the beginning of the busta video…shorty’s pussy poppin’ and what not!
This is simply one of the best things I’ve read on the Internet so far. I have copied it and mailed it out to a couple of people I know it would relate to who don’t have access to the internet. I also sent a link to my brother, whom this post inspired me to call. Thanks for writing this Dallas.
R.I.P. Mr. Penn…
Thanks for sharing. This post moved me beyond words. So, I’ll just second what Ms. Ahmad said….as long as there is life, there’s hope.
Peace, blessings, and much love to you and yours..
those pics speak volumes. Beautiful.
Wow DP…my heart goes out to you. This story makes me think of Justin and Ryan. Ryan totally looks up to Justin, but I don’t think his older brother realizes how much he’s adored. Instead he’s a bully and passes over Ryan to shower his love to little Devon. I sincerely pray that you and your brother will regain what was lost. Your story definitely touches the heart. I had tears in my eyes…thank you for sharing with us…
The picture you painted in this article was deep. It makes you look at things you take for granted. Stay close to my man kito god will handle the rest.
Super D aka Big Slim. This is so healing, but keep in mind all u can do now is all u can do. My story is the opposite. I believe after my parents divorce, I did everything I could for my brother and you know how things are for him. So don’t hold onto guilt it prevents healing and remember Life Is Great! Shout outs to Kito aka the Meadow Manor toy supply (water guns, balls, G.I.Joes, bats etc)
i just read this today. beautiful and heartbreaking. this is the story for millions. don’t give up.
I just read this. I am glad it was linked. I have two sons and this post is truly meaningful. Stay close to your brother. Lucky for us that everyday we wake up is another opportunity to make a fresh start. Don’t give up on your brother DP. God Bless.
Drops like these make the rest of us look like a bunch of bums.
Top notch.
^what Robbie said…
Your writing is phenomenal.
Damn D. My brothers are all I have. U know how me, Prime and Hess are. I couldn’t imagine being forced to come to those terms with them. You “big brother” a lot of cats, but I truly pray that you can salvage your relationship with your physical in the near future. Thanks for sharing my genius. This read reinforced the reminder of how lucky I am.
I mos def am glad that I read this, D. I can totally relate from the other side of the coin. My big bros relocated to Detroit when I was a kid, and I embraced their friends as my surrogate big brothers. In one day I stole, had my first drink, smoked, broke into someone’s home, and fornicated, all for the first time, hanging w/one of my surrogate big bros. I’m just blessed that my path didn’t lead the same way that your Kito’s did. God bless you and keep him.
Humbled by your honesty, inspired by your openness. Working to be as a transparent as you. Keep listening to your moral compass.
oh my God, Dallas.. this was such a devastating story.. .. .where’s your brother now? if there’s anyway i can help rekindle your relationship with him, do get at me.
Dallas…there used to be a cop show (I cant remember the name right now) the intro says something about there being six million stories in NYC. I have lived long enough now to know that what they said was true…not only are there the main stories, but backdrops stories, follow-up stories and some stories that could change location and names and be almost identical. I will not start unleashing any of my stories here but please know that the guilt you feel is not islotated. Its universal. I wore mine proudly especially if it meant I could get a sympathetic ear during some crisis or another. Im happy to report that today, May 18, 2012, I am almost completely guilt free. Ive come to realize that in order to live my life to the fullest, I need to be selfish and take on the responsiblity for MY LIFE…AND MY LIFE ALONE. You are passionate, you are intelligent and you feel. Continue on that plane. No need to assign guilt to ourselves for other peoples actions; truth be told, we need that energy to sort out the things that we are truly guilty of in our own actions. I don’t pretend to have all the answers despite my age; but I do have experience and because of my experience I recognize who you are. Be better to yourself and that positive energy will pass to others who deserve it.