Whether it’s a spouse, a close friend, or in this case, a family member, when that person dies, it’s healthy to dissect the relationship and confront unspoken truths. Kevin “Boss” Ross does just that as he shares his experience over losing his brother.
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Hi, I’m Kevin Ross. And this is The Podcast.
Bruh, I Miss You, man Apology accepted. Upon my arrival into this world. My family was low key disappointed. They had been hoping for a girl, especially my brother
who would remind me often that his desire to have a baby sister clearly fell on deaf ears as far as God was concerned. The thing was I loved having a big brother and I thought the world of him, he, on the other hand, tolerated me.
Because my dad was into sports, having been a jock in high school himself. He made sure his first born excelled at Baseball, Football and especially Basketball. And my older sibling had an impressive build. I mean, in the 10th grade, he was a varsity plan solid six ft 200 pound beast on the court.
The two of us growing up, I remember always trying to emulate my brother. I dressed the same as he did. I, I listened to the music he liked, I would work really hard to no avail to be athletic like him.
I knew all his classmates because I was constantly reading and reviewing his junior high and high school yearbooks. It felt like as far as he was concerned, however, that my existence had, how do I say limited validity.
Like when he went out to a party or on a date, I mean, somebody had to shape up that ‘fro of his from the back. Or years prior when he needed 1/4 person to join his short lived singing group and I could carry a halfway decent tune, pre puberty. Uh No, there will be no songs performed on these podcasts. And you’re welcome, Ok. Oh, I wish I could say we were tight.
I think a big part of it had to do with our parents divorce. I was six and experienced the maternal gravitational pull, he was 10 and resented no longer having a daddy around to play catch with or come watch his games. And when Pops remarried and continued on with his new family that seemingly just added to the estrangement, my brother felt.
My mother, she did her best raising two boys and keeping us out of trouble being the youngest. She was protective of yours truly, the black and white rule at home was the only person that could touch me was her.
If my brother ever laid a hand on me, he got a serious whooping, not whipping, whopping. And me being this annoying obnoxious brat, I took full advantage of trash talking him, taking his things and occasionally smacking the guy to just keep him in check. Yep.
This went on for some time. But I believe I was either in the third or fourth grade and one day I ordered my brother to do something and he refused, right. So I swing on him, my hand connecting to his face. Bam.
Dude loses it, kicks my butt and dares me to tell my mom what went down. Let’s just say it would be quite some time again before I even thought about going up against Big Bro. When that day did come, I had no idea it would so alter the course of our lives.
We were both in our teens, by then mom had remarried before I was able to drive. Sometimes my brother would let me and my girlfriend go on double dates with him which were a treat and a blast, ok. Anyway, on one particular weekend, my mom and stepdad decided to go to Las Vegas. Big brother was in charge. Don’t ask me what caused the conflict. All I know was this time, I, I swear it wasn’t me. Tempers flared. One thing leads to another. Now we’re fighting stuff at home gets broken and I end up being beat to a pulp. Literally.
Parents return, my mom is pissed. She grounds me after my brother convinces her that I was the instigator that I broke the destroyed items. And at 15, I’m out of control and need to be put in check. Ok.
Well, I can admit now I was slightly out of sorts during my early adolescent years. Don’t judge. My brother was not repeat, not telling the truth about the fight and the ensuing property damage. So to punish my older brother, I declared that I would not talk to acknowledge or recognize him as my brother ever again. And I meant it.
the way I treated him was awful, I wouldn’t reply, whenever he spoke to me, I would leave the room whenever he appeared, I I turned down offers to go places with him. Uh When he finally admitted that he lied to my mom and acknowledged he was the one who started the confrontation. My response was apology unaccepted.
He was dead to me last week marked five years since my brother passed his death at the time it occurred, was unexpected and devastating. While him leaving this earth didn’t occur until four decades after our huge blow up. I still have regrets about my actions all those years ago.
Maybe if I had been quicker to forgive him, we would have taken some trips together that he would have been the best man at my wedding. Instead of just one of the groomsmen that we would have had more frequent phone conversations where he shared his struggles, fears and triumphs.
Despite not being the greatest at expressing how he felt. My brother beamed with pride. Each successful step I took and wanted the absolute best for me in life. And yet he still struggled with initiating a hug, or saying the words I love you.
Sometimes we get in our own way and block our blessings simply because of pride, our own stubbornness, our unwillingness to be vulnerable or to let things go. Then later we ask ourselves, why was that being such a knucklehead by so-called, punishing a person? We end up suffering the consequences.
Fortunately, my interactions with my bro’s two adult children and four grandchildren, two of whom he had never had the chance to meet, continue to provide an opportunity for me to be the uncle he was to my two sons.
It’s my way of honoring someone who shaped me into being the guy I am while my siblings absence is unquestionably felt every single day. His legacy fortunately lives on. So, Eric, here’s to you continue to rest in power from your baby brother. I love you, man. And so it is.
I’m Kevin Ross and this is The Podcast powered by TheGrio. Follow me @IamBossRoss on Instagram and Twitter. Thanks for listening. See you next time.
