The Art of Writing Backwards

I have 3 younger brothers, one of them, (ugh, I struggled with whether to write them or whom, but whatever), is incarcerated for an extended period of time. He has served 10 years so far, and of those 10 years, we were in contact for approximately 3, until recently. Communication was lost for varying reasons, none of which were negative. However, we have reconnected and we’ve basically picked up where we left off…

A bit of the backstory: We didn’t grow up together. At least not entirely. We lived in the same home for maybe a year. During that time, we developed a bond, that almost 40 years later, rivals any relationship I’ve had to date. When he was about 4 years old, he had the unfortunate experience of being burned about his face, as an aerosol can exploded in a fire. For several months, he needed to wear a mask to minimize scarring. It amazes me how insignificant bullying was, back then. At least to those not being bullied… No matter. I protected my brother. Even to the point of physical contact with the villains of his story. To me he looked cool. Like one of the many wrestlers of the day. Kinda like one of the guys who would have wrestled the Junkyard Dog. Except for the fact that his mask was beige, and not multi-colored like the guys in the ring. We wrestled and flung each other to the floor like pros, until one day, he accidentally kicked me in the face and my nose started bleeding. That was the end of our professional run. But, it was just enough time for the memories to permeate our souls. Eventually he would go live with his father and grandparents. We would see each other occasionally throughout his preteen, and my teen years, but inevitably we would lose contact.

Fast forward to adulthood. In some way or another, I always managed to track him down. I once told him that no matter how much time passed, I would always find him. I am my brother’s keeper, after all. I somehow forgot about this promise, and he happily reminded me when we spoke for the first time, (since 2012), about 7 weeks ago. When we communicated previously, during his incarceration, we were only able to write letters, and send emails. Now, there is technology that affords us the opportunity to have video visits. I was a bit nervous at first. Not knowing how our reunion would go. But, hoping it would be business as usual. It was. He looks the same to me, and apparently I look the same to him. What’s fascinating, is that I don’t see him as the adult man he is. When I lay eyes on him, all I see is my baby brother. Our call and response is always: “Hey, Big Sis”. “Hey, Little Brother”. Time seems to both, stand still, and move exponentially fast, in the 30 minutes we have, per visit. Each time I test my iPad for connectivity issues, and plug in my headphones, I wonder if we will find anything to talk about. Afterwards, I shake my head and think to myself, “why were you even worried?”

He recently celebrated his 42nd birthday. It fell on a Saturday. Our standing visit is every Friday. So, as a surprise, I decided to schedule 2 visits back to back. As I sat excitedly, in my office chair, waiting for his face to appear in the small upper right square, my excitement briefly turned to disappointment, as he greeted me with the usual… “Hey, Big Sis”, and I toothy-grinned my reply, “Hey, Little Brother”, only to realize he couldn’t hear me. The funny thing about technology, is, well, it doesn’t always function as we’d like. After several moments, we settled in to the fact that, we could both see each other, but not, have the luxury of hearing each other. Can’t have everything, right? Within about 2 minutes, I grabbed a sheet of paper from my printer tray, and wrote a few words, and quickly shoved them into the camera. I wrote, “I can hear you Perfectly”. Followed by, “Can you ask somebody to help?, I think it’s on your end., and, Problem on your phone”. By the time I got to the fourth phrase, he commented on how hard it was, for him to read my end of the conversation, as everything I wrote, was reversed from his view. Without missing a beat, I quickly began to write backwards. It was a struggle initially, but then it became somewhat of a challenge, and eventually I found it fun. For the next 25 minutes or so, we had an engaging conversation, and I began to master writing backwards. I realized, that it’s much easier to write in all CAPS instead of trying to get the lower case letters correct. I ended the visit by writing, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, backwards, of course, as I wanted to keep his birthday visit a surprise. The next day, not knowing if technology would be on our side, I pre-wrote HAPPY BIRTHDAY, along with a quote, all backwards. The first thing he saw, before my face, was the birthday greeting. We both laughed heartily, as we realized the technology gods smiled upon us. However, we were prepared to roll with whatever came our way. The next week, to my surprise, he had written two quotes for me. Each time we’ve visited since then, we both have a quote or two, (mine are always written backwards), for the other’s viewing pleasure.

There was a time in my life, when I would have become almost incensed to have to deal with that technical difficulty. Scrambling to figure out who I could file a complaint with. How I could get my money back. But, these days, I strive to find the beauty in every moment. Spending that 30 minutes weekly, with my baby brother, brings me so much joy. Watching him smile like the Cheshire Cat, and reminisce about our childhood, conjures so much nostalgia. Life before video visits. The days before cyber space became a primary source of familial communication. Scheduling time with him, puts relationship into perspective. It brings clarity to what I choose to put my energy into. In that moment, I could have become angry, and complained about how seamless our time together could have been, or let that unfortunate incident ruin our day. Instead, I chose to protect our bond, and laugh it off. I chose to be the good I seek in this world. Even as he repeatedly apologized for what was neither his fault, nor mine, I chose to speak words of encouragement. I reminded us both, that at least we were able to see each other, and have the visit at all.

We, well, let me speak for myself… I, have often taken things for granted. Material things. Relationships. Good health. The ability to make choices about what I want to do with my life. As I get older, and seek to better understand this thing called life, I am more intentional with my actions. I am more patient when things don’t go the way I feel they should. I am more aware of the impact my energy has on those around me. I choose happiness. I choose peace. I choose to make happy memories with those I am fortunate enough to have in my life. Even to the point, of mastering The Art of Writing Backwards.