2000-10-24 - 22:43 MDT

October 24, 2000

Bonded

Not too long after I could read well, I was drawn deep into adventure and dedication of man to man -- to the death -- I lived it and usually - heh - I was the one who died. Oh, such a dramatic death too, an Oscar award performance no less.

I was taught the right things by Mom and Dad, and accepted the lessons well. But I yearned for a brother, blood of my blood, faithful to each other to the death.

There was a time when brotherhood approached, a friend who felt much like I did and whose imagination and fantasy equalled mine. We had secrets from the world, ordinary things, but swore to never tell anyone even under torture. All that romantic idealistic feeling of mine was met by his.

I have striven mightily to remember the book I read, maybe something by James Fenimore Cooper, that led me to doing this with my friend. We were out in the country (country then was close to home) in a small grove of trees and shrubbery, he had read the same book and was as fascinated as I. We went through the oath we had made up, and then each cut a slit in our palm, we then shook hands as the blood mingled in our hands. From then on we privately acknowledged "blood" brotherhood of the deepest kind.

Inseparable, adventuring together, occasionally taking part in some of the games the other kids played, but we were considered a team of two. We never faced each other as competitors, were always side by side on the same side.

Alas, this was not to be forever or even through school. One summer day I was going over to his house and noticed his family's car going down the street with a load on top, I ran but not near fast enough. I never heard from him again. Mom said that she heard they skipped out on their rent and went the the farm of one of their relatives a state or two away, victims of the depression.

Brotherhood splintered, broken, shards in my heart. No goodbyes no explanations, just watching their car go away. In my heart I was orphanated for sure, that's how I pronounced it. Of course life went on and things resumed as before, I played with friends and did the fun things kids do.

But there was an empty spot in my soul that needed to be filled, I was too young to be interested in girls. I wanted a "blood" brother, dreamed of having one, looked for one. None of my other friends fit the pattern.

The next grade in school a new kid came into our class, and in a dog sniffing dog macho way of young boys, acknowledged each others presence. We became friends, good friends, very good friends and finally we cut our palms, shook hands and became true blood brothers in our own eyes.

Somehow his and my parents were lenient towards us, I guess because they could see a harmless friendship between us. We would go to the library and check out books, and reading approximately the same speed -- would trade books back and forth . . . . . then we would talk about the stories and sometimes played, "Let's Pretend," until we had to descend into reality and go in to eat.

We weren't gay and had no thought of it -- it wasn't that -- for my part, I guess it was an effort to put a boy in the spot of the brother I needed so much. Occasionlly we would sleep at each other's house, do the chores together. We exchanged treasures and gave each other small gifts on birthdays and Christmasses, just as if we were real blood family. I had scarred a bit from the loss of my first friend and when this brother told me that his family was going out of state to live with a mother-in-law (grandmother to him) I was able to accept it as "shit happens," and tough it out.

Ever seeking a friend, I had my Mom and Dad and an Aunt and a Grandmother, people who loved me -- but by golly I wanted that special thing that brothers had above and beyond all the normal things.

I guess I was in about the tenth grade when my cousin asked me to join a junior lodge, a reputable thing overseen by men of the main lodge. I had never been one who was in love with ritual, but in my funny mind, this ritual made sense. It's champion was a long dead man who had been a hero, long, long ago. Gradually I advanced through the steps of the hierarchy and came near the top.

I had a whole bunch of brothers then and felt complete.

I quit school and went to work (reason another entry) and gradually my brothers graduated and were beginning to start out on their life's course. Then came World War Two, none of us saw one another after that, some went navy, some army or air corps, I went to work for the railroad and met the girl who would be my wife. The rest might be humdrum history to others, you know, the kids came along and the two of us were raising a family.

I then had all the family I needed, a soul mate, children. A wife to care for and who would take care of me and children to love and raise with love. Also when we married I gained several brothers who treated me as one of them and always have.

I have had men who were good friends, but they never came near being the blood brothers I had as a boy.

But this man who was an only, lonely child had gone to heaven, and it was here on this earth -- it was FAMILY ! How much closer can you get. We are still bonded.

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