Family Tensions

Today I went to work with my dad. We ate lunch at Taco Bell. We started to talk seriously about my brother. Apparently, yesterday night, he needed a scale to weigh himself. See, he's trying to get into the police academy, and about a month ago they told him to lose 10 pounds in 1 month. He was at 210 lbs. Last night, he was looking for a scale even though he's bought at least 2 in the past few years. My dad overheard him and my mom talking about it. He decided to go to Walmart to buy one. When he returned, my brother weighed himself. He was at 227.

My dad asked him why he didn't weigh himself before today--days before he has to go get weighed by the recruiters (Wednesday, I believe). My brother said that he didn't need to because he knows his own body. This was before my dad bought the scale. Then, when he weighed himself in the living room, he said how it's not a big deal because he's gained muscle and that they'd forgive the extra weight.

My dad was fuming. He was absolutely fed-up. "Is he that stupid?" my dad said at Taco Bell. "Do I need to take him to a psychiatrist, check to see if he's mentally handicap?" My dad has never said anything like this to me before.

My dad has no faith in my 27 year old brother, who still lives in my parents garage, who works a low-wage part time job at a retail store, whose room is, in the words of my father, "the way homeless people live." I told my dad that my brother has a victim mentality: he feels exasperated by the world, feels as though it's out to get him and there's nothing he can do. But this isn't necessarily so. He refuses to do things because he thinks he's always the one who has to do them, even though: a) he never is, and b) even if he does do them all the time, they're still important things that ought to get done just to better his own life. Simple things too, basic things that any competent adult should be able to do for themselves, like bring in groceries, do one's own laundry, wash dishes, etc.

My mom is my brother's greatest champion. My dad's constantly at-odds with her. She protects us from my father's scorn, his criticisms. Not unfounded criticisms: genuine things he believes we should be doing at our ages. But my mom gets emotional and threatens him if he dare speak out against us. And once my mom gets upset, the whole household locks in a tense stalemate and everyone's unhappy.

But my brother's fucking up his opportunities, and my father can't help being pissed-off. He's getting old, and being a gardener isn't for people without cartilage in their knees or constant pains in their elbows. My dad constantly worries about the day he's not going to be able to work anymore. Once he's no longer bringing in money, where will the family be? Due to his sacrifices, I live in a house, have food, have utilities like light and gas. But what happens when my dad's done, his body says no more?

He doesn't think we, his kids, can survive without him. But my mom will never let him say that. Especially not to my brother who, filled with shame and guilt, hardly ever talks to my dad, avoids his presence, and once, I remember, cried when my dad confronted him about his life choices.

I feel sorry for my self-oblivious brother. I feel sorry for my trapped, sacrificial dad. I feel sorry for my unreasonable mom. I feel sorry that we're in this situation. I'd feel sorry for myself too, but I feel that would be too self-indulgent, and that's something I want to differentiate between my older brother and myself.

"Sometimes I feel like selling the house, giving half of it to your mom, and telling her, 'Go. Take your kids.'" I looked at my dad wide-eyed when he said that. He wasn't totally serious. I've never heard my parents talk about divorce before. But I could tell: the action with the thought, though far away, was certainly within distance, if only enough time would pass.

When I asked him, when he was 28 and got married to my mom, did he ever think about the difficulties that would arise with his wife and with his family--the irreconcilable, unsolvable problems? Did he ever consider those at 28? "I should have been old enough," he laughed. "If you were to ask me for marriage advice," he later told me, "I wouldn't know what to say. 'Marry a good woman'? Well, yeah. But just because you marry a good woman doesn't mean you're going to have a good marriage, you know?"

I felt a bit sad agreeing with him.