Category Archives: Twin Brother

Straight Guy In Leather

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Guest blog by J, BHD’s twin brother

I’m a straight guy, married to a wonderful woman, and I usually wear suits in my daily life. My brother, BHD, has accused me of being the Imelda Marcos of dress shoes as he is the accumulator of boots. Nonetheless, I do not wear leather items other than a leather jacket and shoes. I have not been interested in wearing leather (nearly as interested in wearing leather items as my brother is), nor have I had the reason to wear something like leather jeans since I do not regularly ride a motorcycle or play in a rock band.

That changed last week. My wife and I were on a stroll through Forum des Halles, a large market in Paris (France). This is where we live.

We usually buy items to snack on, fresh vegetables, or the occasional item like a hand-made sweater. The market is wonderful, with many vendors offering all sorts of interesting things.

As we were strolling past the stalls of vendors selling their wares, I saw a display of leather garments. The vendor had some nice jackets, and I stopped to look. They were all too short for my tall frame. I began to turn away when my wife spotted a pair of leather pants and held them up to my waist. She said, “those would look good on you!”

I was shocked. My wife is quite fashion conscious, and has never expressed that she thought I would look good much less want to wear a pair of leather pants.

I looked at them, and checked the size. They would seem to fit my waist and they were unhemmed and longer than my legs. But I wasn’t sure of the quality. The vendor was actually from Firenze, Italia, and he kept telling me in very excited and expressive Italian just how wonderful the pants were made and how great they would be for me. He said, “look, all the guys wear them now.” I was in a state of disbelief when he pointed, and I looked where he was indicating and saw a man walking arm-in-arm with a woman. The guy was wearing a pair of leather pants with a leather jacket. He looked good.

Vendors in these places sell all sorts of stuff of varying quality. Neither my wife or I knew how to tell about the quality of the leather pants. But I knew who would know! I rang my brother on the phone. It was very early in the morning back where he lives, but he didn’t seem to mind. He asked me to check the stitching, seams, and the lining. He asked me to rub the leather between my fingers and see if any of the dye came off on my hands or if the leather turned dull where I rubbed. No — it remained shiny and smooth. The seams were double-stitched. My brother asked to speak with the vendor, and while I could only hear one side of the conversation, I could tell that my brother was asking a lot of good questions. I was impressed that my brother could have such a technical conversation in Italian. The vendor handed the phone back to me and my brother urged me to buy the leather pants.

I had some fun haggling with the vendor, but thought I got a good price for them at €100. I brought them to a local tailor to have the hems finished. I wore the new leather pants yesterday as my wife and went on passagata around our neighborhood. Two people complimented me on the leather pants. I must say, they look very nice.

I believe my brother now that “even a straight guy who does not ride a motorcycle” can wear leather pants. I did what he suggests: I stood up straight, walked confidently, and smiled. I received many smiles back in return. (But I think the pants would look better with boots, which I do not own. I am confident that my brother will be able to fix that “problem” LOL!)

Thanks, bro’! I have learned a lot from you, including a new confidence in wearing leather in public on the streets of Paris, while enjoying a walk with my wife.

A Brother’s Perspective

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Guest blog by J, BHD’ twin brother

I have been speaking with my brother every day for the past five weeks. I have observed him go through various emotions as he deals with recovering from his injury, a broken bone in his leg.

He is being typical in his response: frustration, anger, exasperation, … then to acceptance and finally, this past week: really recovering and looking forward to a cast-less future.

This situation has been hard for him by forcing him to stay in one place and not be able to direct his own life; go to work; go to meetings; help others, etc.

I would say that his first three weeks, he was bewildered and just angry at not being able to care for others. Of course, he was upset that he couldn’t take care of himself, and was dependent on his partner to do everything from cook meals to bathing him. But if I heard anything repeated more often than anything, it was his concern about his elderly friends and who was going to do things for them that he ordinarily would be doing. He did not care about himself as much as he was concerned for others (especially our aunt for whom he cares so deeply.)

He told me that when family or friends called to ask, “what can I do for you?” that his response was, “Emma needs this or Beryl needs that or Marie could use an escort to the grocery store….” Nothing about himself. He always thinks of others.

I have been beating him up about accepting help from others. At first, he would have none of it. He continued to be as stubborn as ever at insisting that he was okay and did not need any help, but others did. But his attitude slowly changed, and for that I am thankful.

His friends have been helping a lot. Mostly what he seems to appreciate most is having someone come over when his partner is at work during the day to help him with little things that he can’t do right now: prepare his lunch, get the mail, and run errands. He has single-handedly organized a “caring patrol” of friends helping friends in his absence.

He keeps referring to this “net” of friends who hold him up. This net keeps his spirits soaring, and never lets him feel down or depressed. He told me that he is still smiling that silly smile that I have grown to adore, because he knows that his predicament is temporary and that in the meantime, while he is unable to carry out his usual activities that others rise to the occasion because he asked. Our aunt is receiving attention and visits from family who have not been to visit in a long time. His friends have managed to get things fixed and their grocery shopping done, even though he has not been able to do it himself.

Now he is worrying about not being needed any more. All these friends helping everyone else. He said yesterday morning during our daily chat that he was feeling “displaced.” What’s with that? No one can replace or displace MY brother. No one. He’s one of a kind.

How fortunate I am to have him in my life: to love, to care for (albeit long-distance) and to help him through his emotions toward complete and full recovery. It is the least I can do for my “big brother,” who has done so much for me throughout my life.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them. It comes back double for every ounce of energy you put into it. My brother is a testament to that!

The Brother Who Happens to be Gay

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I haven’t blogged about this in a while, but since my family has taken over my blog (thanks, sisters, thanks brothers), I thought I would return to writing my own pieces, and describe a bit of what it is like for me to be the “brother who happens to be gay” in a large family.

I have a very large family. Sometimes, too many to count. But seriously, if you count my siblings, their spouses, their children, and their children’s children, there are 159 people ranging in age from zero to 68. And that’s just my immediate family. My father came from a family larger than that — so if you include my aunts, uncles, first cousins, first cousins once removed, and first cousins twice removed, we’re closing on 400 people.

Do I know all these people? Well… some better than others. I know who they are and their names because I took on the responsibility of keeping my father’s family tree and genealogy. So at least I know who my family members are by name, date and place of birth, current location, and relationship back to my paternal grandparents.

When it comes to my immediate family — my brothers and sisters — we have an ongoing, healthy adult relationship. It took a while for that relationship to develop. Being the youngest, my twin brother and I were always treated as “the kids” and it took a long time for our older siblings to accept the fact that we were adults. I “came out” as gay when I was in my early 30s. Some of my family accepted me as being gay right away when they found out, and others did not. In fact, some said that they knew it all along and were just waiting for me to say something. Those who were more reluctant to accept that I was gay had interference from their respective spouses. Yeah, there are some of my brothers or sisters in-law who don’t speak to me unless they have to. Yet there are other in-laws who are as close to me as one of my own blood siblings. It varies.

I think what helped to develop a positive, adult relationship as a gay man, and a gay brother, with my siblings, their spouses, and offspring was an example taught by my mother when she died. It took her a few years to accept that I was in a relationship with a man. But once she accepted that, she grew to love my partner. When she died, we found a note where she designated my partner to be a pall bearer at her funeral — the only “son-in-law” so designated. That made a powerful statement.

I live a positive, up-beat, normal life with my partner, who I treat as an equal and as a spouse. As readers of this blog know, I am well-connected in my community and do a lot of civic work. My family recognizes that and values my contributions. They have supported me all the way in various “campaigns” and in some big events such as our annual Thanksgiving pot-luck or “Spring fix-it-up-for-senior-safety” gigs.

They’re there for me, as I try to be there for them. I show up at their kid’s school plays, football games, birthday parties, or other important events in their lives. We are intertwined. We are family.

It’s not easy being the “odd-ball out” as some people have described being a gay brother among a large family of heterosexuals. But I am not treated as being odd, or unusual, or “different.” As our family continues to grow and move along life’s highway, I am considered as one of those who contributes to our growth. I provide various ways for us to keep in touch through the internet, email, websites, and so on. But my family also works at keeping in touch and together.

I know that I am very fortunate to have a family like I have. I have heard from gay men who have been ostracized and excommunicated from their respective families. I feel very sorry for them. Most of the time, the negativity directed toward them was not their fault. Often, organized religion plays a very negative role in disassociating family connections. (That’s why I personally have a lot of trouble with the term “Christian” when people who claim that title act with bigotry, hatred, and hypocrisy.)

I am not saying that I have all lovey-dovey relationships with each member of my family. Some of us are closer than others. That’s going to be the case in a large family. I am, admittedly, closest to my twin brother J, but then again, you would expect that. But what I can say is that I have earned the respect of each member of my family, and even if they have personal reservations about homosexuality, they realize that “it” is among their lives and they have gotten accustomed to having a brother who happens to be gay. Not “the gay brother.” To me, that’s the difference.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Sister Act

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Guest blog by R, G and C, BHD’s triplet sisters

We figured if our brothers could get into the act yesterday, that we could, too. We are four years older than BHD and J, and are fraternal triplets. That means that while we share the same date of birth, but have enough physical differences that you wouldn’t call us identical. We think similarly, and oddly enough, we each have married and have had five children a piece — two of whom share the same birthday, and three of whom share the same date of birth (figure that one out!) These coincidental birth dates of our children were not planned, but happened by serendipity.

If you ask BHD, he would insist that we were put onto this earth to torment him and J, his twin brother.

Never! They were put on earth to torment us! We couldn’t have boys over without B and J giggling behind the curtains, or putting fake spiders in the drink glasses. It was no wonder that we would pretend to chase them around and jump out to startle them in the upstairs hallway.

As we have grown up — speaking for ourselves, because our little brothers will always be our “little” brothers — we realize that our brothers are pretty good people. Some of us have moved apart, while R and BHD live in the same area. Regardless of our physical location, BHD has worked hard to keep us together by implementing internet technology as long as 14 years ago when he created an email distribution list for the family. Now he runs a website for our family to post messages, pictures, and updates about what we are up to. It even integrates with Facebook.

As much as we had some sibling arguments when we were kids, we have become close friends in our adult lives. In particular, we’ll never forget that BHD saved G’s life. Literally.

We know this is not a family blog, but we have seen how much fun J has playing with BHD’s blog, so we thought we would chime in together and say, “we love you, little brothers!” Catch you in the ether! And BHD — don’t go chasing little old ladies any more. You’re not as young as you used to be! (Alas, good deeds never go unpunished, do they?) We look forward to seeing you on your Harley and in those boots at our family reunion in July!

Life is short: love your brothers; they need all the help they can get.

When the Helper Needs Help

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Guest blog by J, BHD’s twin brother and M, BHD’s big brother, the doctor

Our poor ol’ brother broke the lower end of his fibula in his right leg, near the ankle. Fortunately, the ankle is fine. Being a complex joint, breaking the ankle itself would probably mean surgical procedures and a very lengthy recovery. A broken fibula is bad, but it will heal by itself and no surgery will be required. (M saw the x-rays through incredible marvels of technology, and confirms BHD’s doctor’s observations).

He was fortunate to be wearing boots that provided strong ankle protection when he fell. Had he been wearing sneakers or regular shoes, then it is likely that he would have broken his ankle and his life would be changed forever. For us, as his brothers, we are now convinced that his boot-wearing probably saved him months if not years of pain and inconvenience.

For now, while he is uncomfortable when he is waiting for the pain and swelling to subside, he is being well-tended by his partner and the older folks I met when I visited with him over the years. From what we hear, his partner is providing the TLC that our brother requires, including help with bathing and changing clothes.

Our brother’s older friends are taking shifts to spend time with him during the week while his partner is at work. Our brother told us both in a rather emotional moment on a recent phone chat that “paying it forward is being paid back.” That is, he has put a lot of time and attention into caring for his senior friends, and now they are enjoying being needed, and helping him.

All of us who love him have told him only to say, “thank you” and not say that he is undeserving. If anyone deserves kind, caring attention, it is our brother (“big” to J, “gentle” to M).

He worries that all of the people he cares for will need help that he can’t provide during his recovery period. So from afar, we are helping to organize an in-fill capacity to provide his services while he recovers. Our sister will begin to look after our aunt, and a couple nephews will do what is required to care for some of his senior friends who need physical help that our brother, until now, has provided without fanfare or attention. That’s just how he is.

Believe me, accepting the role of being helped is not easy for the helper our brother is. Our role, living so far away but being close to him as brothers, is to help him accept that, and to know what he says all the time is true–

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Christmas With My Brother

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Guest blog by J, BHD’s twin brother

I wrote this post for my brother to put on his blog on Christmas night. When this message appears, three of us (my brother, my wife, and me) will be visiting family and exploring the neighborhood where we grew up. Many of our family haven’t met my wife yet, as we were married in Italy and this is her first visit to this part of the United States.

We began our Christmas by awakening to the aromas of breakfast. We came downstairs and greeted my brother-in-law and his mother who were seated in the living room by the Christmas tree. They had been up for an hour and were waiting for us before having breakfast. We entered the kitchen and beheld a huge meal that my brother was ready to serve. Man, it reminded me of our Christmas mornings when we were kids. We had cialda (waffles), bacon, egg souffle, home-made bagels with lox and cream cheese, orange juice, coffee… wow, what a treat! I usually don’t have much for breakfast but a roll and coffee, so this breakfast was an extreme pleasure. Even my wife was impressed (and that’s saying something.)

After the huge brunch, we exchanged some gifts, but nothing much. Our family has long agreed not to exchange gifts among each other because we would all go broke. But my brother and I have always exchanged a little something, following a strict limit on how much we spend. My brother gave me a month-by-month calendar with photos on it that he took when I visited in August — of me, “the bad boy Harley-biker guy.” What a hoot! How did he have time to do that? “Non è nulla,” he says. (Ha!) I felt silly giving him a belt, but he seemed genuinely appreciative.

Then it was time to visit some of our great-nieces and great-nephews. After all, Christmas is for kids! My brother wanted to ride his Harley, but since my wife and I both were going and neither of us wanted to be tied by a bungie cord to the back of the bike, we opted to ride in his truck. Good thing we did, as the weather was lousy (cold, wet, icy, yucky).

We enjoyed seeing the younger ones. I took some of them outside to build a snowman and have a snowball fight, despite the rain. We had a ball! I got soaked. My wife got miffed (fa bene!) My brother and sister laughed and laughed and laughed. They never expected me to get all messy. (They forgot the days that I played football on many a muddy field).

My wife and I stayed at my sister’s house while my brother drove back home so he could prepare our Christmas dinner. (I’m glad we went to church on Christmas Eve, as my clothes were unpresentable after that snowball battle!) My niece dropped us off at his house by mid-afternoon. I changed clothes, but not into a suit. When I stay with my brother, I have to live under his “house rules” which included “No Suits In The House!” I put on a comfortable sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, much to my brother’s dismay (the sneakers, anyway). My wife couldn’t figure out what was going on about how I was dressed. I had to explain it later. (She still didn’t get it.)

We held hands while my brother-in-law said grace. That was sweet. My brother said a special prayer for his friend who died. He remains sad, but he’s okay.

My brother had to hold back the food until we were seated… like he did at breakfast… to keep certain people from eating before all were seated. (I shan’t say more, but I know that the eating habits of a certain visitor drives my brother insane.)

The dinner was wonderful, plentiful, and delicious. We laughed, shared stories, and enjoyed a relaxing and delightful meal. It was odd, in a way, not to have children running around, or to have rolls tossed around the table. I missed having dinner with 50 people, but then again, I could hold a conversation and have time to translate the American idioms for my wife. All was good.

After dinner, my brother took my wife and me on a tour to see the Christmas lights in our old neighborhood, and to visit a woman who babysat for us when we were kids. That was fun. We sang carols (as we missed going caroling with our old high school crowd since that gathering was canceled due to the snow, and my flight was delayed two days).

Overall, I had a wonderful Christmas Day. I enjoyed watching my brother do “his thing” — from cooking and serving meals, to ensuring that everyone was cared for. How he relates to our family, friends, and his partner and mother-in-law. Greeting neighbors with a friendly wave and a smile is his trademark. He had a table overflowing with cookies and treats that his “crew” (seniors for whom he cares) made for him.

What a joyful day. This is what I wanted to show my wife about Christmas, and our family. I am basking in the warmth of love for my big ‘bro.

Happy Christmas, Brother! I love you!

J

Still Believing

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This is my Christmas greeting, and to all of my fellow bloggers, blog visitors, friends, neighbors here in the Maryland area or Down Under or in between, I extend my heartfelt wishes for a joyous holiday and good cheer.

Last year I got spiritual and whimsical when I reflected on the meaning of this holiday and my small role in this world by saying, “I Believe.” Well, that’s true — as true last year as it is this year.

I am very fortunate to have many wonderful things in my life: a loving and caring partner who means the world to me; a large and raucous family who hold me close and keep me grounded; close friends who lift my spirits and support me, no matter what; a decent job that keeps me engaged, challenged, and pays the bills; no debt; a roof over my head that I put there with my own two hands and support of my partner; a chance to put the roof over the heads of seven other families who serve the residents of the county where I live; food in the fridge and pantry; a Harley on which to have fun; and opportunities to serve others.

I would not say that “I have it all.” I am not rich in a financial sense. I get by, make ends meet, and get the bills paid. But I am rich in the quality of people who compose my circle; rich with the belief that I have and I can make a small but noticeable difference — one person at a time. I have faith.

I just gazed over at my partner as I was writing this, and my faith deepened because he looks so serene and happy. I then glance over at my twin brother, who is holding his wife’s hand and just gave me a wink and a smile. I am content. The most important people in the world to me are here with me, and it makes me feel wonderful.

I quote once again from my favourite movie which is shown at Christmastime in the U.S., It’s a Wonderful Life. I was watching it again while writing this message, and heard the familiar line from Clarence who served as George’s guardian angel on his night of crisis:

Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?

That’s my point: each of us touches so many others. I believe that in those moments when we reach out to touch another — send a greeting, give a call, lend a hand, flash a smile — that we are filling that hole. One person, one step at a time.

Yes, I believe. This is the faith by which I live.

Merry Christmas! See you in the blogosphere!

Fun in the Snow

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My buddy Clay claims that I’m always out saving the world. No, not really. Okay, during the cleanup from our recent record-breaking snowstorm, my snow blower got more use than it ever has since we have owned it. I’m glad that’s all over.

My partner was able to get out and drive to Pittsburgh to pick up his mother. They return later today. Last night, my twin brother and his wife arrived a bit bedraggled and jet lagged from Europe, but they’re here safely with us and I am looking forward to spending Christmas with him, his wife, my mother-in-law, and of course, my wonderful partner.

One Week

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Guest blog by BHD’s twin brother, J

One week, big ‘bro! One week to go until The Big Day!

One day to go back here, then we board our plane and join you! Whoopie!

I can’t wait to show my wife all the cherished memories of our Christmases back home … the ornaments on your tree that we had when we were boys … go caroling in the old neighborhood with our former high school classmates … helping to bake those special Christmas cookies and breads that you make … get the kids in the family all excited with lots of treats and uncle-chasing … the list goes on.

I can’t wait! This is going to be one heck of a fun Christmas, because we will be spending it together. Can you believe it? It’s been TWENTY YEARS since we have had Christmas together. I’m afraid that your partner, his mother, and my wife will think we have gone completely daft. However, that is what is so very special about spending Christmas with your twin brother who is your best friend.

I can’t wait! Woo-hoo! Love you, bro’!

My Thanksgiving Thanks

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I referred in yesterday’s blog post that I had prepared several “Thanksgiving Thanks” which I shared during our wonderfully successful Thanksgiving pot-luck event at which 98 guests and 11 family members participated. We had four opportunities to share with the group, and one privately. I prepared separate “thank yous,” which I will share here.

Before I go on, let me extend my thanks to all readers, and wish you the best for this holiday season. Peace to all people, dogs, cats, and otherwise (smile; photo provided by a cousin).

  • 11:00am: thank you to my wonderful partner, who lights my life with his commitment, dedication, hard work, and ongoing support for all I do. I could not live nearly as well, as comfortably, or as loved without him. Without him, I couldn’t be nearly as involved with you, my guests, as I am. I cherish him, and value how much he cares for all of our guests here with us today, for his mother, and for Mother Nature (just ask the squirrels and birds in the back yard!) Thank you, thank you, for being the man you are, and for being my best half.
  • 1:00pm: thank you to my wonderful twin brother, [J], who traveled all the way from his home in Paris to visit with me twice this year, including a wonderful birthday week where we rode Harleys together, visited family, and had such a great time. He connects with me almost every day by phone, email, or comment on my blog. He shows very clearly how much he loves me, and how much he cares. His wife and this world are so much the better for having him among us. I cherish him and love him only as a twin brother can. I can’t wait to see him and his wife when they come to visit for Christmas.
  • 3:00pm: (this passage removed).
  • 5:00pm: Thank you to [E] who organized today’s event. Two weeks ago when [my partner] and I both came down the the H1N1 flu, I was feeling overwhelmed by the need to keep on top of the planning and organizing for when you all would be coming today, and what you would be bringing. [E] just took over, and organized it far better than I could ever have done. Thanks, from the bottom of my heart. And thanks to my family [name, name, name…] who helped all day, too. We couldn’t have done this without you, and we love you very much.
  • 8:30pm: to my partner, as we sit here alone after a long day … thank you for enduring what is very hard for you to do … to be “on” all day long, to be socially light, entertaining, and to smile all day. I know this whole thing has grown beyond what it started out to be. I also know that it is physically more difficult for you now. And with unexpected visits from family who stayed with us last week before my aunt’s funeral, and with us both having had the flu and being sick for a whole week right before that — today was even more challenging than ever before. Thank you for your spirit, your hard work, but most of all, my love, for your love.

Thank you, loyal readers, for visiting this blog!

Life is short: be thankful!