Kristina Furey

"He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother"--Bobby Scott and Bob Russell

Continued from last weeks blog…

My brother Kevin (K1) and I (K2) were both born in the month of April.  That wasn’t all we had in common.  There was our love of animals and also our love of music.  I was more a music geek, with a love of Julie Andrews, Doris Day and of course Olivia Newton John, while Kevin was more into whatever the older kids were into at the time.  Our next door neighbor was a young adult drummer and I think my brother Kevin admired him and wanted to be cool like him.  He was and he was that guy everyone wanted to hang with and be like, much like Ferris Beuller and I often was just known as his little sister but I liked that.  It was more he, that preferred his distance, from his geeky little Sis.  So I, often not allowed in his room would sit outside his door and listen to whatever music he would be listening to in his room.  Often I’d be out there listening to KISS, JIM CROCE and the EAGLES, I liked them.  Some of his music, I wasn’t so much into.  I admired his innate ability to understand and play music, especially when he was playing the radio songs on the piano, and I was still plunking out beginner songs on the piano, after years of lessons that never seemed intent on helping me, play the music, that I loved and wanted to play.   Eventually I begged my parents to end my torturous lessons and they did one day, when one of my piano teachers told them I couldn’t read music after so many years of lessons.  I had just been memorizing the material…  Still,  I couldn’t help but wish my brother would someday see me as the Marie to his Donnie but I guess too,  I kind of knew somewhere in the back of my head that even Donnie and Marie, were geeks by my brother’s perspective.   

More than ever my brother didn’t want me around when he was in middle school.  I remember looking for him one night when we had gone to our church for a Fellowship Dinner and he disappeared. I walked outside and saw people getting in a car.  The car just sat there in the parking lot, so I headed over to see if he was hanging out in it.  It was dark and as I tapped on the glass, someone rolled down the window, smoke poured out of the car and I heard my brother’s voice, from the back seat of the car, telling me to go away.  I did.  I was very conflicted but I didn’t tell my parents.  Corporal punishment was practiced in our home and I didn’t have the heart to see what might go down if I told.  It was apparent to me that he and my Dad rarely saw things eye to eye and I wanted to keep the peace.   Soon, very soon after that, there was a parade of a few parents, some of them with their teens, one by one, every so many weeks, going up to the pulpit and apologizing to the church for experiences the teens had with drugs and asking the church to pray for them.  I was just a kid but I could feel the embarrassment, shame and fear even, that was there in the church.   No one from my family ever made that walk of shame but our church going days, soon came to an end.  —to be continued—

The Osmond's performing, "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother"

 

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