An Early Christmas Present

On Thursday the 26th of January, 2005, my little brother came home.

He was eight days old and was delivered to us by a nurse. I still remember running downstairs to open the door for her. It was freezing and he was wrapped in a white blanket with two blue stripes on the side.

Having been born addicted to drugs he was taken from his bio mom and put into foster care, into the care of my mother and step father. Regardless of the fact that he wasn't our blood he became our blood the instant we saw him. He was my brother.

When he was nearly three his bio mom finished her rehab and fought to get him back. She succeeded.

Thinking that we had lost our brother forever my mom fell into despair, I already thought of her as the villain of my story but it was then that I knew she was truly evil. Her actions were unpredictable, her logic without reason, her heart without remorse. She was mourning.

Several months later Bio showed up at our door with my brother in hand. He never stopped crying for us, never stopped crying for my mother. From that point forward he was in our house most of the time and when he started school he was with us every weekend. Once he became a teenager we saw him less and less, he was rebellious and wanted to lead his own path. He was a teenager - it is to be expected.

This past year he was taken into custody by the city on two occasions. This last occasion the city began to look into the situation and noticing that my mother has been involved in his life since birth decided that the best thing for him was for him to return to my mother's custody.

On Wednesday the 7th of December, 2011, my little brother came home.

Regardless of the fact that he isn't our blood, he has been our blood since we first saw him. He is my brother.

The road ahead will not be easy, he has a lot of anger management issues, is severely behind in school, and being 16 all he can think about are girls. A recipe for disaster. I'm in a state of utter confusion because of all of this. Being in London and so far away from home there is nothing I can do to help. Being in New York wouldn't make things easier but at least I can see him. I think this is what they call a cross roads - a moment where a decision needs to be made that will alter the course of time.

I fu*king hate crossroads.
**The story of my brother has been kept brief and many details have been omitted. His story is his to tell and I only reflect on the fact that his life has affected my own.**
An Early Christmas Present An Early Christmas Present Reviewed by Christ贸pher Abreu Rosario on 04:41 Rating: 5

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