As A Child...

As a child, I grew up second to one nine years my senior.  It was not a grandiose situation since the first born gets all the attention, all the love, all the teachings, and rearing that parents are supposed to bring forth.  If you were to see pictures of myself and the older brother, there were no pictures of how pleased he was to have a little brother.  No smiles.  Just posing for the camera as parents would do trying to bring another child into the world of another, while the new child is invading the first one's territory.  Growing up, I don't recall having any good times with the older brother.  If there were, they were far out shadowed by the bad.  I was constantly antagonized, to the point of crying.  It was more of a science project.  "Let's see.  If I continue this repeated action, let's see how long it takes for him to bust out in tears".  Then I would tattle to my mother.  I would get popped for tattling.  He would get popped for antagonizing me to the point of crying, then I would get popped by the brother for tattling and getting him into trouble.  It was a vicious cycle.  I don't believe either of us were supposed to be in this world to begin with.  One of my parents closest friends came over one Christmas to visit.  As things go, you eat, you drink, and then you drink more.  When you drink more, you become inebriated.  While inebriated, you loosen up and begin to talk more.  The husband of my parents friends became inebriated past the point of being able to spell the word anymore.  He was explaining how my mother became pregnant and that was not supposed to occur.  It happened, so my parents dealt with it.  I just knew what was coming next in the conversation, so as I began to get up and leave the room, sure enough, the explanation of the second pregnancy came about.  Again my parents dealt with it and so, here we are.  Although, me especially, am the product of an unwanted pregnancy, you could never tell it by at least my father.  He paid attention to me, played with me, took me places, even took me fishing.  Not to say he did any less of that with the older brother.  I'm just saying he never made us feel unwanted.  My mother came off of a farm where cows and vegetables are raised for food.  Sometimes I would feel like I was just another offspring of live stock, however, if I were in need of caring for, she was there.  So, I grew up being antagonized.  To alleviate the antagonism, I would create my own dreams just to have some escape if you will, or a place to go that was mine.  Mostly at night I would have these dreams as described in my book, The Train Runs No More.  That was the only pleasure I could find in all of this.  Rarely was I included in any brotherly games or associations that I recall.  I suppose that as parents, if my parents were more attentive to any given situation of their children, they would have talked with them.  That is the one thing that my family never did is talk.  By talking with one another, ones makes discoveries about another.  That is how parents discover something happening with their children, but few know how to talk, even to their own wife or husband.  It's all about talking.