Family Legacy of Sorrow and Pride
My brother and I never met our grandfather; however, we share a common bond of sorrow and pride that crosses many intersections in time and space. The story begins in Brooklyn, New York, and travels worldwide to Asia and the Middle East.
Growing up in our grandmother’s home in Brooklyn, my brother’s and my awareness of our grandfather came from his painting in his Army uniform. My brother and I did not remember the family talking much about our grandfather. Still, his memory was a constant presence and eventually served as an inspiration for two boys growing up in challenging circumstances that suffered pain, abuse, and separation. We lived at our grandmother’s house until I was about 4-years old when we moved to Yonkers, NY. Life in Yonkers was a living hell for my brother and me. Those memories continue to haunt me today because many involve feeling helpless about not protecting my brother from the abuse we suffered. On the first of many occasions, my brother and I were separated; he went to live with a family friend of my mother.
During our separation, I suffered in silence as I continued to endure abuse at the hands of parental figures who were supposed to protect me. At some point, my brother and I were reunited; however, our reunion was short-lived after I reached a breaking point where I could no longer endure the torture my brother, and I suffered. One…
