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Swinging Into the Sunset: A Letter to My Brother, James

Dear James,

As I sit down to write this, I'm flooded with memories of those warm evenings when I would take you outside to swing until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. You were just a baby, and those moments, seemingly simple, became a refuge for both of us—a peaceful escape from the complexities swirling around us.


Empty swings

Our family, with its strong and sometimes overwhelming personalities like Pa, Aunt Suzy, and Greg, shaped us in ways that might appear arbitrary to others. Yet, they left a lasting imprint on us. Those quiet times on the swing taught me about finding peace amidst chaos and the importance of creating safe havens when the world seems turbulent. Even as a child, those swings were more than just a plaything; they were a symbol of solace and a necessary space for us to reconnect and find calmness together.


Your dad taught me many things, one of which was how to be observant and aware of our surroundings. This skill came into sharp focus one day when he decided to gather large rocks from a roadside ditch—a mission that required a keen eye and ear, especially as we narrowly avoided a state trooper. It taught me the importance of being alert and adaptable, lessons that transcended that day’s adventure.


One of the earliest and most impactful lessons was learning to drive. At the tender age of 11 and 12, I found myself behind the wheel, not out of choice but necessity. Your dad would drink heavily while fishing at night, and I became the safer option to get us home. It was a challenging situation, teaching me responsibility and composure well beyond my years.


From your dad, I also learned the art of freshwater fishing, earning the nickname "Mudhole" for my dogged determination. Hunting taught me patience and a deeper appreciation for life. However, it was those precious moments swinging you that revealed a profound truth about resilience and the need for emotional sanctuary.


I’ve realized that we are not obligated to be held accountable for the actions or standards of our fathers. We have the choice to break free from any negative patterns and to forge our own paths, armed with the lessons we've learned, both the good and the challenging alike.


Our swing set was more than just a playground fixture; it was a refuge—a sacred space where we learned to rise above our immediate circumstances. It provided clarity and taught us about resilience and perspective. These experiences are integral to our journey of survival, growth, and transformation. As you navigate your path, remember the strength we discovered together and the insights we gained swinging under those twilight skies. We are more than our inheritance; we are the authors of our own lives.


Continue exploring your stories, James. Embrace both the light and dark threads and let them guide you to a future filled with resilience and understanding. Let us both continue to find and create spaces—like those swings—where we can reflect, grow, and find peace. In doing so, we honor the beautiful complexity of our shared journey.


My experiences differed greatly from yours, yet they hold their own significance and are far from arbitrary.


Alan

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