The one and only time I got to meet and get to know my brother was at a funeral. Most siblings get to grow up together and forge bonds. I wasn't so lucky. For years I didn't know that I was unlucky.

When I was 12 my grandfather passed away.
I had a very close bond with my grandpa and it was very hard for me to deal with the loss. This is also the day I met my brother and sister. The moment we were introduced it felt like something clicked. We connected and it was as if we had never been apart.

My biological father was in grief and has anger issues. This escalated to him being very mean to my brother. Even though I had just met him, I was very defensive of him and he was defensive of me. As my father raged my brother and I tried to protect each other until the adults broke up the altercation.

My aunt pulled my brother and I away from the fray and she took us for a long walk along the Gulf of Mexico. My brother and I were in shock but we clung to each other all the same and didn't have to speak as words were un-necessary.
That evening my brother and sister went home.

I was given a picture of the three of us together for the first and only time. I treasured that photo. My father forbids any contact with my aunt or my brother and sister. My heart ached and I didn't know what to do.
When I was 16, the state took me out of my father’s custody and I pretty much started out on my own with my Mom’s help. I started looking for my brother and sister. I had a few leads but nothing ever came of my searches. I never gave up hope.

Fast forward over 15 years. My grandmother passes away and again I am faced with loss, but this time I am faced with hope as well. This is the first potential opportunity to find my brother again. It is sad that it takes a family tragedy to get people to communicate and reconnect.

After all these years of no communication and no knowledge of my family, I was excited to go to a funeral. It may sound morbid and wrong but it’s so very true. I knew that my family would pay respects to my grandmother. She lived to be 92 years old. I also knew that I would face a lot of potential rejection too.

This is all worth the risk. The funeral is a very tense affair and I was met with a lot of rejection. But when my brother went to the casket to pay respects… I knew who he was. Even though I’d only met him once. I knew.

I tapped his shoulder and with tears streaming down my face I say “ I've been searching for you for over 10 years . . . “ He turns and sees me and pulls me into a huge hug. We cried and became attached at the hip.
I got to meet his family (wife & kids etc.). He found out that I drove over 20 hours but he couldn't spare to part with me right away. I spent the day with my family sitting next to my brother at the Gulf of Mexico.

I finally found my big brother. We are both young and grateful that we have time to share our lives and have the love and support of each other. A promise made along the coast was to never lose contact again.