It was early in the morning on a Friday two weeks past. A doorbell rings, echoing the entire household. No one expected an early guest to come here. Moreover, no one expected someone to come here early at this hour with the need to ring the doorbell. As my grandfather opened the door, he was surprised with what he saw. Behind the door, was none other than my brother, who had previously told us he was going to return at an earlier date, but never showed up. Most likely to figure out what was going on, my mother ran downstairs from her slumber and was also surprised that my brother returned. Indeed, I, too, was awoken from the rung doorbell and the sound of my brother’s voice as he conversed with my mother and grandfather. In all honesty, for me, he chose the wrong time to return home, even if it was a surprise.
Indeed the presence of my brother shocked my family members, none whom expected him to come, if at all, at this time. What made it more interesting was that, to my understanding, that day was also my uncle’s birthday (whether it was his American or Chinese birthday, or both, is still up in question, as my own uncle does not recall when his birthday is). My family decided have some pot luck to celebrate his birthday, and my brother certainly came in the right start time in terms of food preparations. As a first day return, it seems that everything was going fine. We were smiling, laughing, and talking about things of the past and present, the events that he missed.
Clearly, my brother was here for a reason, as he should be attending class unless the school system in Honduras was highly different than the USA. My brother stated that he would be transferring again to yet another high school. This time, the location would be in Las Vegas, as if two years with my father in Honduras was not enough to graduate with a high school diploma. The theory behind this change is that my father and my brother believes that my brother has a higher change going somewhere with a USA high school diploma instead of a Honduras one. Indeed, that would make some sense, as I have heard that doctors need a doctor degree from another country if they were to transfer to that country. My brother came here to obtain data of his high school record from his old school so he can show it to his new school to prove that he is of high school level. Clearly, he had to wait until Monday in order to have those papers given to him so he can transfer to a new school come spring semester.
However, it seemed like other that his reason to be here and the first day of his return, every other day seemed to have traveled back in time. In order words, it felt like nothing has changed, and, in this case, it was a bad thing. The main reason I feel this way was what happened during the following week that he stayed in New York. In as simplest of words as I can summarize what happened, nothing happened. I felt like I was back in time with the same old things happening over and over again. This is thanks to my mother’s over-protective personality as well as her narrow-mindedness that my brother was still the same bad kid that he is now. By “bad,” I mean doing drugs, smoking, drinking alcohol, and being outside until very late at night. As a mother, she naturally cares about her son’s well being and wants him to behave have listen to her. My brother re-informs her that he is 18-years-old and is able to take care of himself. This whole clash in values between my mother and my brother dates back during my late junior year of high school, but talking about that would require yet another essay of words that I will not go into for the sake of time for reading this post.
Returning to the topic, every night I would listen to the same thing over and over again: “Why did you come home so late?,” “You should stay home and not to those things with your friends.,” Don’t you know how worried I am every night?” Those words might as well have been played on repeat every time my brother returns home late. My brother is indeed old enough and mature enough to know and understand what my mother is trying to say, but, of course, he does not comply to my mothers’ wishes. While I would like my mother to have some open-mindedness on allowing him to do as he pleases, I highly doubt she would put it into practice.
This is where I thoughts of the past week come in. This is why I have stated, in the beginning, that my brother chose the wrong time to return home from my perspective. This is more of a personal response to my actions in relationship with my brother’s, not a direct attack on his inter-relations with everyone else. Last week was a hectic week for me in terms of academics. In fact, these next couple of weeks will become even more hectic. As piles of final papers, final exams, and final projects are on my mind, I lacked the time to have a decent chat with my brother. To juggle between doing my academic work and staying by my bother’s side with the limited time he had here was the biggest struggle and hurdle for my this past week. I wanted to be with him, to catch up with him, to see how he was doing and talk to him about many things. There were so many things that I wanted to discuss with him, yet lacked the time to do so. In the end, I chose academics over my brother, focusing on getting all my stuff down as quickly as possible such that I can spend at least some of my time with him. In sacrifice of my choice, I was away from him, shut in my room in front of a computer and a stack of books and papers, rushing to get my work done on time. I never truly knew what he was doing behind the scenes when I was away at school or inside my room. I was sure that my brother, who, while doing his part of the work, was spending time with my grandparents when my mother was at work and I was at school. I want to believe that he checked up on them to see how they were doing, as I am oblivious to what goes on around me.
By the time I was done with my work and ready to be with him, it was already too late. My brother would leave that Friday, the one day that I was done with a majority of my work that I could have set aside some time to spend as much time as I could with him after school was over. In the end, however, that wish did not came to be. My brother left before I could even say anything to him, or at least have a deeper conversation with him. I would have been glad if I had at least one decent conversation of catching up and discussing what happened in our sides of the world. Alas, it had not come to be, of which I feel much sorrow for.I believe that, had my brother chosen I better time to return, I would have had more spending time with him.
In the end, I hope that he returns once more at a better time that is not near finals week. That way, I can be with him more, and I would be very glad about it.