Good morning all. It's been ages since I've updated this blog. That's because if I have anything worth saying I tend to filter it through mackjackandjill.com. But yesterday I had a story that didn't seem filterable. I was up in Everett at my friend Zach's place. I have returned to Seattle this week to visit old friends and at Zach's house we have set up a massive LAN party. If you aren't familiar with LAN parties, a bunch of dorks bring their computers to one house and you play videogames until you pass out.
In my youth I had watched my friends part take in such dorkiness but was never able to participate myself for various reasons. Well, set up before me was my laptop, my best friends, and a fully updated, ready to play Team Fortress 2 (possibly the best game I've ever purchased). Just as the games were to begin I noticed a missed call from my brother.
Without going through too much detail my brother is suffering an unusual bout of depression brought on by a doctor who's been perscribing pills like candy. He's somewhat volitile and at the moment I feel it my responsibility to be there for him at the drop of a hat. I'm sorry to admit that I don't want to be there for him. You may call me a terrible brother for that sentiment and I wouldn't disagree with you. But unfortunately, helping my brother means sitting there on the phone for the better part of an hour or two while he goes over the same details over and over again and you nod along silently. But I also know that during this volitility I MUST be there for him in any and all needed capacity. That if I were to cut him off in converstaion saying "But you're okay, right. K' I'm gonna go," I would feel like shit. Despite that I've already talked to him for an hour today, despite that this is the one thing in my trip I was most looking forward to.
I pick up the phone and walk up the stairs as my heart starts pounding. The phone rings I don't know how many times as I worry that I might be too late. But finally he answers. He says things are weird. I listen. He continues and I get the sense he's okay, but that's not good enough. I have to be there till the end. And he doesn't end convesations. You have to.
I don't consider myself a very religious person. But I do believe that there are things one should do. I do believe we should give beggers money. I do believe it is wrong to capitalize on someone's mistake (i.e. at a restaurant or coffee shop) and when someone has come to you for help, you help them till you can't help them any longer. I did feel what I was doing at this moment was something God would demand. And so, despite the fact that my friends were once again having the fun I always yearned for, I was upstairs, till the end. I silently prayed for an out. "C'mon, I'm doing you a solid. Please do me one!"
As my brother started his next topic of converstaion, cementing another 20 minutes, he stopped mid sentence.
"Sorry, Ben. Dad's on other line. I'll call you later."
Free at last.
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