I lied to my brother to get together with him after 30 years of separation. brought us closer.

I have a half-brother who is younger than my father. We met once when I was a teenager, but we only knew each other through social media as adults. I had always been curious about my father’s side, but it was one of those things I assumed I would explore.

My relationship with my mother’s side is strained. Lately, I’ve been feeling at a loss. I knew it was time to act if I wanted to be close to my family.

“I have a work event in Nashville,” I lied to my brother in a text. “Would you like to have coffee when I’m in town?”

There was no action event. Coffee was a low-stakes meeting that I could walk out of if things didn’t go well.

He replied, “That sounds great. I’d like to meet.”

Just like that, I planned a 1,500-mile road trip tommy for a brother I hadn’t seen in over three decades.

I wanted to know more about our father

I wondered what we were talking about. I wanted to know who he was and how I grew up with our dad, who got married and moved out when my parents divorced. My dad was a bassist in Nashville, Tennessee, touring with stars like Reba McEntire before his death in 2011.

I booked a hotel with a lobby; Depending on how things went, my brother and I could talk for hours without the constraints of a coffee shop, or I could excuse myself for “work commitments.” I was nervous because the meeting held so many possibilities.

I recognized my brother right away. We hugged without words, and it felt like homecoming. I forgot my nervousness as we settled into our conversation.

I had endless questions about our father. I knew he was one of those amazing dads – fun with a few house rules. I fantasized about being a teenager in that house, rather than spending those years in foster care. We linked shared family dysfunction with memories of our father introducing us to the intricacies of music.

We were very similar

My brother and I were more alike than I expected. Our childhood and teenage years were turbulent. We were the black sheep of our entire family. We set ourselves on the right track as adults. I rarely meet others like me, but our lives have many similarities.

“I have nothing working here,” she admitted. “I didn’t want it to be weird that I drove 10 hours to see you.” He laughed, saying he understood. It bothered me a bit about the white lie.

Have you been to Lower Broadway? I asked during a lull in our conversation.

I’ve heard about the downtown neighborhood described as a mix of Times Square and the Las Vegas Strip, and it’s a fun thing for us to experience together for the first time. shook his head. He moved away as a child. He’s only been back in Nashville for a few weeks.

“It looks crazy out there,” I said. “Do you want to go?”

We arrived at dusk, and the streets were packed. Almost every storefront was a bar with live music playing in the open windows. Each had a unique neon sign. The smell of old liquor wafted from the bars as we passed, mixed with the cigarette smoke and musky perfume of the street.

Our conversation shifted in that environment. We shared war stories, the most extreme thing we did growing up in our twenties. I didn’t admit it to my friends back home; In many incidents, I was old enough to know better. In his stories, it was. It was the first time he had confessed my worst, most fun, and dangerous adventures, and I knew the listener would have his own tales, rather than judge me for my tales.

When I arrived, I was ready to drive just about anywhere to meet my brother “for coffee.” I did not fully disclose to myself what the meeting would mean, but I got what I was looking for. We were so carried away with the crowds in this well-trodden atmosphere, we formed a bond that was richer and more sincere than we could have found in a hotel.

Considering how deeply we communicate, starting with almost complete strangers, we were probably destined to divulge our secrets to each other all the time.


Tricare west is a global news publication that tells the stories you want to know.

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to top button