Andras

What can I say about my "brother"? I met him at an online Recovery Site. He was in the chat room and was willing to answer my questions about how the site worked. From there grew a friendship that has become one of big brother and little sister. I smile when I think of the word "big"...for he is neither older nor bigger in stature. Yet, standing about four and a half feet tall, he is one of the tallest guys I know.

He was born with severe disabilities that left him in the hospital for most of his first nine years of life. In spite of the fact that most with his type of disabilities died as infants, he survived. He endured many experimental operations as they tried to learn how to fix his deformed body. In his late teens he endured surgeries that enabled him to walk without braces...but also left him in constant pain. 

Rejected emotionally by his parents because of his disabilities, he spent his youth trapped in a limbo between hospital life, with painful surgeries and terminal patients, and a home life filled with abuse. He had to watch the other children...his friends...leave one by one, usually due to death. His tender heart, with its quick smile that made the nurses fall in love with him, covered a deep wounding that would affect his teen and adult life.

His heart became hardened as it reflected so well what he was taught...to live for self first. As a teen, he turned to drugs and to alcohol (his mother's drug of choice). As an angry adult, he continued to try and kill the pain in soul and body. He became a cold-blooded criminal; yet, even in the midst of that, he had a tender spot. It was dangerous to cross him, but he would also protect those he was loyal to and did not tolerate abusiveness toward those under his wing. I did not know him then. I can only relate what he shared with me.

The man I met had been changed after an encounter with his Creator, Jesus Christ. He no longer drank and used drugs. His heart was tender toward others. The cold-bloodedness was gone. Instead of seeking what he could get from others, he sought to give whatever he could. He was there for others instead of looking for them to be there for him.

For me, he was a lifesaver. When I was going through some dark times...he was there for me. When I was trying to make sure I did not overtake prescription drugs...he was there for me, staying on line with me when my husband was away for a weekend. When I found out that I still had DID, he was there for me. He was there in many ways for me...through our online connection...and even over the phone. He was counselor, brother, friend, co-recoverer, "unca".

Today, he is in constant physical pain from his disability coupled with Rheumatoid Arthritis and Degenerative Arthritis. Limited to a wheelchair, he is no longer allowed to walk because of how brittle his bones have become. His life is one of pain medications and very limited mobility, yet he tries hard not to show his discomfort. His heart shines through brighter than ever. He goes online every day and reaches out to others who are hurting and wounded...whether physically, emotionally or mentally. He offers support to those in recovery.

A little over two years ago he married another dear friend of mine...my tender hearted "adopted" sister. Although I could not get there in time for their wedding, we did arrive that evening. For the first time I got to meet both my brother and my sister in person. Although I had seen pictures of him, I was still taken by surprise when I saw how short he really is physically. It was hard for me to wrap my mind around it. You see, to me, he always has and always will stand tall in my heart and mind. Nothing will ever change that he is my BIG brother.

I have no biological brothers, but I am honored to share his heart as his "adopted" sister. He is an inspiration to me and has been such an encourager in the years I have known him. The love we share is unique to us and I am very blessed in it.

Thank you, Andras, for being there for me...and for loving me when I was going through periods of self discovery...and not always liking what I found. Thank you, bro, for your support and kindness towards this "little" sis. Thank you for letting your light shine in my direction.


January 21, 2008