THE WORST CASE OF SIBLING RIVALRY SINCE CAIN AND ABEL

brothers



 This is from my own family history, but I'm going to try not to take sides. Which of course when you've been brainwashed since birth, is a really, really hard thing to do.
   I shall try.


   Some years back, over in the Old Country I had a great, great, great etc. Grandfather. It was during one of those odd periods of history where my family had more than two nickels to rub together and had a very nice house.  As was usual for the time, they had a live-in maid who was of course, younger and prettier than grandma.( *AD We never learn do we?)

   It's not exactly what you're thinking. Our grandparents wanted a family and had been trying unsuccessfully for a few years. No luck.  There was no in vitro, no surrogacy or adoption at the time and they were very sad.  Grandpa because he would have no one to leave the house and the business and grandma because she felt guilty that she was the reason.

   Grandma made a decision. It turned out to be not so smart, but who among us can say we haven't made some dumb decisions ourselves?

   She told Grandpa he could screw the maid and if she got pregnant, he would get his heir. Yeah, like if your wife gave you permission to have the maid you'd say, nah, it's not right. We'll be fine.

   So Gramps and the maid starting doing it and, apparently it was Grandma's problem because the maid got knocked up.  I wasn't there, but I'm guessing it was killing Gram's on the inside, but she started it.

   Grandpa doted on the boy. He was also very nice to said maid.  Grandma bit her lips, mostly and then, a miracle happened. Maybe ten, twelve years later, even though Grandma was little long in the tooth, she too had a son.

    Think about our blended families of today. Some people can work it out, and others can't. They lived together in the house for a couple of years, but it was really, really getting to the women.

    Grandpa didn't know what the hell to do. He loved both his boys. He loved his wife. I'm not sure about his feelings for the maid, but she was the mother of one of his children.

    Did you hear the one about the  two women, one man and two boys, asked the patron sitting at the bar?  It's beginning to sound like one of those stories.

   The wife finally gave grandpa an ultimatum. She wanted them out and gone. Those of you with wives know how this ends. The other pair were sent packing with regret.

    They left the area and of course were really pissed. The boy missed his dad and maybe even his brother. The  mother moved so she could start fresh elsewhere, but she and her son now carried hate in their hearts. Who could blame them? Promised something and not getting it? I suppose the mother should have been grateful to have a son, but they had nothing else so I guess she couldn't see the up side.



It of course was bigger, and has seen better days.

   Things back at the house, well, it had been a place that now symbolized something bad and sad.  Grampa couldn't bring himself to sell it, but knew the family had to move. He got a lawyer, or whatever they were called back then, to hold the property and rent it out until they could decide what to do.

   Each little family unit went their separate way, but when you've got beef with someone, you manage to know how and where they are.


    Grandma and then Grandpa died. While they were alive, the house was rented out to tenants who didn't take great care of it. It became part of the estate which was then contested by the two sons. They had their own families now, with their own kids and other relatives. Resentment festered so they wouldn't even go into the same room. Don't even think about them entering the house at the same time. They refused to listen to reason.

   They both felt entitled, and I can see why, assuming the story is true. The problem one son had was that his mother and father hadn't married. That made a difference.

    However, the older son claimed the rights of the elder son, which also mattered back then. And so, they did what their parents had done. They left it in the hands of some realtors and left it to be rented. It was barely self sustaining by this time, so they didn't have to fight over profit or loss. They didn't have to have any contact which was fine with them.

   Again, they disengaged and left to make their own families and their way in the world.  They left but the tale and hate remained.

   This story has been passed down for generations. Talk about forgive and forget!  Not my peeps.

on the road

    As happens over generations the children chose paths in life.  My  side of the family was big on reading and education. Some of us had a knack at business.  We've produced a lot of people with knowledge.
 My cousins, were more into business, particularly real estate and man did they make some killings.

   Now comes the really shitty part of the tale. We still can't sit down and talk. About seventy five years ago, one of the people watching the old house made a plan. He drew up a diagram with blueprints and everything so the house could be divided equally and anyone from the family could come back to live there if they wanted.  Divided, but a little separate.

   From what I hear, my side, although not happy, but said alright. It's not perfect, but it's better than the way things are. The other side said no way. It's our house and we'll kill anyone of you who steps inside it. Oh boy. That caused quite a furor. Some of my cousins went back on principle to live in the house. Like just do it.  Most people don't like being told what to do. My family isn't the exception.

   The other side, had their cousins who were nearby, who also tried to move in. That's when War broke out. 

    And since it's by not the age of media our story went public. Such a shame on us all.  So many dead. So much hate because long ago, a papa and a couple of other people made a poor decision.

    The part I'm unclear on is why people take the other families side. Well, I know why they do since the oil was produced, but why before that?

     I know, if you're a little different, people are afraid of you. And we were, and maybe are a little different. Still.

     If you haven't come to the conclusion of who we are, we are the Semites who lived in the ancient lands of Judea and Samaria.  The deserts of Canaan.  And all over the middle east. Our cousins stayed around there longer than we did for the most part. We traveled a lot.  Okay. It wasn't by choice but we did it and usually landed on our feet until someone took the earth out from under them again.


    We became known as the wandering Jews.  Our cousins became known as Muslims.  (If I get any of this wrong, please excuse me. I'm not in the mood to do any research on this. Not now. Not anymore. It doesn't seem to make a difference.)


     So Isaac and Ishmael were the bothers. Okay half brothers. In many families that

Peace Be With Us All

doesn't matter.

     This is where I believe the divide began. It's not about the land of Israel or Palestine. It's about who dad loved more.
       Maybe Israel has and takes the "higher" ground because Abraham was married to Sarah.  I don't know. I do know  the family found out what it's like to be mistreated.

       I'm not clear on how far back this old would opened and festered.  There was a time when Jews were welcome in Babylon and were pillars of society. The Muslims and Jews weren't always enemies. What happened?

     Maybe, somewhere in history, a shit stirrer picked up on this tale of two brothers  and has used it to wreak havoc ever since.

       I'm so tired of it all. I've lived in Israel and therefore am having an impossible time being impartial at current events. I wish I had some way of helping and healing. Stopping the insanity. It really is insane. It's not like we're fighting over the oil. The people who are called Palestinians weren't any luckier than we when it came to finding rich land. Hagar and Ishmael settled in Egypt from what I can recall. We're fighting over the crumbling house we all once lived in and still believe we are meant to maintain this property. There are good people and bad people on both sides of the family.  Just like any other family.

    Maybe instead of diplomats and politicians, we could try sending in some family therapists?




The End