A picture of me taken by my brother in Prague

Hey, brother

Andreea Ray
Sep 9, 2018 · 6 min read

My phone rang while I was half asleep on a bus ride from the capital to my native city. A number I didn’t know. I answer as composed as I could. At the other end of the line a young male’s voice, which I did not recognize, greeted me: “Hello, this is Adrien, your brother”.

I remember very well when my mom first told me that I had a half-brother. I was more or less five years old. I was shocked and excited at the same time. I wanted to meet him, to know more, but my mom couldn’t tell me anything. She had never met him either; no one in my family did. My dad and his family lived close to us, on the same street actually, no more than 20 minutes walking. I remember I always felt the urge to go around his house and see him; see his family, see my brother. I guess, due to my relationship with my father, what I really wanted to know is how it was to be part of his family and if his parents ever told him that he had a step sister.

My mom and dad never married. They had a brief relationship in their twenties that ended with my mom never wanted to see him again and a daughter that he didn’t want to recognize as its own. He got married before my mom gave birth to me and his son, my brother, was born only a few months later.

One day, one of my mom’s friend took me over to her place to hang out. She had a plan actually. She lived right across the street from my dad’s house. She was determined to “accidentally” bump into my dad and force him to talk to me, spend some time to the daughter he never wanted. She knew how much I desired to see him, and how much he hurt me in our previous encounters, the empty promises he always made and all the times he never ever showed up.

We hung outside around her house but we never saw him or his wife. One afternoon she called for me and led me outside in the street where a group of kids my age was playing. She took me over to them and told me “look, this is your brother”. I don’t remember how he looked but I remember that my head was spinning with excitement at the prospect of meeting him for the first time. My broad smile was immediately wiped off when he said, in a rude way: “she is no sister of mine” and walked away. He was no longer than five years old as well and no one ever told him he had a sister so I guess he thought it was only a bad joke. Nevertheless, this encounter stuck with me for the rest of my life. I remember feeling so sad and rejected, I wished I had never met him and I definitely didn’t want to talk to him again.

Fast forward almost 15 years, I was shocked and had no idea what to say when he called me and introduced himself as my brother. I was almost convinced that someone I knew was playing a bad joke on me; I couldn’t believe my ears. Only when he explained to me that he had just met my aunt and my grandmother and they gave him my phone number, I started thinking that this might actually be true.

He sounded fearful and excited at the same time, telling me that he wanted to finally meet me. I said yes but as soon as I hung up I thought to myself “did I really wanted to meet him?”. His rude attitude towards me years before didn’t wash off and I still felt hurt by his words. We didn’t have anything in common, except a dad, and from my perspective, we were too old now to mend anything our parents broke.

That’s exactly the attitude I brought to our first reunion: rude and not interested in creating any type of relationship.

Adrien didn’t remember our very first encounter when we were five years old and his family never told him anything about me. Not only his grandparents, his mom and everyone else in his family never told him anything about me, they tried hard all his life to keep this a secret.

It was a great surprise for him when his ill grandmother, accidentally, told him he had a sister. She didn’t know much. She only told him my mother’s name and the neighborhood we lived in.

He decided to look for me, in secret, so one day he came to look for me alone. He had no idea where to start or what to expect. The neighborhood I lived in was pretty big but he was determined to find me so he started knocking on all the doors asking for us.

My aunt and grandmother couldn’t believe their ears when he asked “is this where Livia (my mom) and her daughter live?”. They invited him in and he shared his story, how he never knew anything that happened almost 20 years before and how he really wanted to meet his sister since he was an only child as well.

On the day of our encounter, he came to pick me up in his dad’s car. He was shy and super excited; I, on the other hand, was very cold, uninterested and rude. There was no moment where I felt a huge connection, no feeling of Adrien being the long-lost brother I’d always wanted; it was far less dramatic than that. It felt like meeting an old family friend, who just happened to look uncannily like my father. I’ve always thought that I look like my mother and was struck by how much Adrien resembled dad.

Looking back on that day I understand how bad I behaved and how disappointed my brother must have been. I projected onto him my hate and hurt towards our father. I was not ready to forgive my father for abandoning me and never wanted to get involved in my life, and I unconsciously felt a lot of envy towards my brother who got all his attention.

After that first time, each of us got on with his life pretty much the same as before. He was disappointed with me and my behavior; I still didn’t want anything to do with anyone in my father’s family.

Although the first meeting was a disaster, we were not ready, unconsciously, to give up just yet so we kept in contact. I was living with my mom in Italy; he was off to college. Over the years, something changed in me. I realized that family is more important than anything and a brother that loves you no matter what is worth everything.

After almost five years I went to visit him in Prague, where he had moved for work.

This time it was very different than the last one we saw each other. I was thrilled to see him again and I really wanted to develop a more meaningful relationship. We spent time visiting the beautiful city of Prague and talking about our lives, our relationship and what our future hopes for ourselves.

I was still stiff at the beginning and my shame of my reaction on our first encounter still haunted me, but after an amazing walk at the Prague castle and two shots of absinthe, we connected in a way I never imagined. He told me how deeply disappointed he was after our first meeting and I told him how deeply ashamed of myself I was. I don’t know if it was the setting, or the absinthe, but I never felt happier and closer to him. It was like we knew each other our whole lives, never separated. He made me realized how much I needed my brother and how important I was in his life too. We decided to forgive our parents and keep nurturing our relationship.

Even though we haven’t seen each other again after that time, we are closest than ever. We keep each other updated on everything that happens in our lives and love each other more each day that passes. When asked if I have any siblings I proudly reply “I do, a brother”.

Andreea Ray

Written by

Daydreaming professional. Hopeless romantic. Passion seeker

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