The Screwdriver

  I only have the blessing of having one and only brother.  He was born of March 20th, 1965 and I was born a year later on the 30th.  So, he was stuck with me for his birthday celebrations while we were children. My brother was really fun to be around with.   My fondest memories of him are during our late childhood years, I was in sixth and he was in seventh grade.  It was the late seventies and we were living in Chicago, we had been there for about two years or so.  I'm not really sure, but the thing is that during those troubled times in my parent's marriage, we were pretty much left alone to do our will.  Some parents are so hooked up in their own problems that fail to overlook their children. 

Growing up with my brother wasn't easy, he was quick to get into trouble and always had a good way of explaining himself out of it.  Once he got into spraying me with cockroach water, I don't remember exactly how he called it.  He would put some water in a Windex bottle with some nasty little cockroaches and tell me that if I didn't  do what he'd say, he was going to spray some of his roach water on me. I can't recall him getting into trouble with mom for this (to the day I'm still traumatized by roaches).  We were pretty much happy kids, thanks to my mom, because we grew up in a household where bickering was always just a heartbeat away.  My dad during my childhood and teens had a drinking problem that would not only put his own world upside down often, but ours also.  Throughout the years I'm glad he stuck around because at the end he's made up (at least in some parts) for all the pain and suffering he caused my brother and me as a child.  At least for me, because my brother left our home when he was barely eighteen years old.


We lived at some point in Augusta Blvd., but then moved to another street that was a Mexican neighborhood in the city.  We attended some time Chopin Elementary School, but then got transferred to another school  close to the apartment where we now lived.

We were enjoying some time off my parent's troubles while we lived in Augusta Blvd., but again we were coping as we settled into our new neighborhood.  Sometimes we didn't make it to school and instead we went downtown and bought tokens for the trains and just wander freely in Chicago.  It was a much fun as it sounds.  Sometimes I couldn't avoid  getting frightened and Tom would reassure me telling  me not to worry because he had brought the screwdriver.  Funny thing,  that made me feel safe.  During that time we didn't go to church because obviously nobody took us to church.  We were to young to drive ourselves anywhere and basically we didn't know anyone.  One day we stumbled across some people that were giving out free lunch in a nearby park where we often went to play.  We sure weren't going to let an opportunity of free lunch pass by, so off we went to get a freebie, like my brother likes to call free stuff.  Actually they were members of a Baptist church and were trying to minister to young children.  Certainly they grabbed out attention, we were both in need of some spiritual guidance.  Right then and there my path of faith began not only for me, but also for my brother.  I remember our faith was so big that when confronted with something beyond our strength (like lifting a heavy bag) we would say in the power of Jesus. 

Closely after we moved to Puerto Rico, things changed as we entered our teenager and young  adult years.  I  married when I was barely 21 and he was in and out of the Army for a while.  Later on when he married he would stay enlisted in the Army and has made a military career for himself (in which he has excelled).  We drifted a bit away from each other on that day to day basis, but we have never stopped loving each other.  If I would choose a word to describe my relationship with my brother, I would use  "safe place" (actually two).  Some time ago my gallbladder was giving me  a hard time, and my doctor ordered some blood work.  After getting it done,  a person called from the lab and told me to pass by and get my results as soon as I could.  The thing was that two cancer blood markers for pancreatic cancer had come back positive.  As my husband left for work,  I knew that I needed to call my brother quickly, not to give him the bad news, but to just listen to him and tell him how scared I was.  I tried to pull myself together, but my voice cracked more than once, as I told him how scared I felt,  to what with a slight crack in his voice he answered that he was also as scared, but that we needed to wait.  In the meanwhile, he would pray real hard. He still hadn't lost his ability to make me feel as safe as he did with his screwdriver.  I felt so much better after speaking to him.  Thank God everything went well, it seemed that since my gallbladder wasn't working at all it screwed up my lab tests results.  He's turning forty-eight tomorrow and in ten more days I will be turning forty-seven we've come a long way since our childhood, but one thing that hasn't changed at the core is our faith in God.  It doesn't matter how close or far we are in distance,  I always know my big brother (if only for a year with ten days) has my back covered.  No matter where life takes us we are bonded together forever because  we were able to  survive a very difficult childhood. I love you, Tom.  Happy Birthday!