The Wheels are turning again.

My 7yr old son has been counting the sleeps until today, when his cousins from Whitehorse make it to town for a visit. We have been traveling up north every summer for the past few years to visit with my husband's family, and each time my son and his cousin Maggie have become better friends. They are little more than a month apart in age, and have an enviable kind of connection between them. 

Last summer we all went to Alaska together for several days. They were virtually inseparable. They giggled and whispered and planned world domination together; or at least ways to keep "the furballs" from interfering with their play. ("The furballs" are my son's two younger sisters, aged 4, and 2 and a half.)  I asked, him one sunny Alaskan afternoon, why he was smiling so much. His answer? "Mom, when Maggie and I are together, the wheels in our heads start turning." 

I can hardly wait for their reunion this week. Who knows what direction those turning wheels will take them? I hope I get to go along for the ride.

The first time...

*While I prefer not to use euphemisms and just "tell it like it is", I feel it necessary to be slightly vague here, in an attempt to maintain a tiny amount of privacy where family is concerned. My apologies if I seem to be avoiding the issue.*

I've thought about doing this for a while now - writing a blog. Sometimes there are events in my life I just feel like spouting off about; some positive, some not so great. Sadly, the thing that spurred me to make this my first ever blog posting is one of the latter. 

Almost exactly a year ago, I found out something about a family member that made me stop in my tracks. I literally had to sit down to process it. My baby brother has a hard core substance abuse problem. To my knowledge, it's been going on for about 10 years now, and progressed into something I never thought would happen to someone I love. 

Let me digress about 28 and a half years. When I was almost 10, my parents told my sisters and me that we were "getting a new baby brother." We were thrilled. We pooled all our hard saved money and trotted off to the local store to buy a toy for our new sibling. My parents, two sisters and I made the trip together to wherever it was that babies were bestowed upon lucky adoptive families. I remember how excited we were to have a new baby. We lavished him with love and attention. 

Years passed, he grew up (as did we all) and now we're all adults. In my eyes he will always be that cherubic baby boy I first called my brother so many years ago.

Fast forward to January 2008. After nearly a year of wondering, speculation and sporadic, uncomfortable visits, the truth comes out. My brother has been using and selling drugs. I tell myself, "At least it's not IV drugs. At least that's something." He makes several failed attempts at rehab. He fills my parents' heads alternately with hope and grief; heartache over his choices, and relief that he's not dead in a ditch somewhere. And then the final straw - he is arrested on drug trafficking charges.  

Jump forward once again, to March 2009. Over a year after the original charges were laid, and after many delays and rescheduled court dates,  my baby brother will finally face a judge to pay for his misdeeds. It's likely he will be spending a couple of years in jail. 

He still has the stuffed dog that we,"the sisters", as he christened us in his childhood, gave him on that very first time we met and became a family. I don't think it will be going with him. My heart certainly will.