\n download the app \n <\/button> <\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/section><\/div>\nI have a younger half brother on my father’s side. We met once when I was a teenager, but as adults, we knew each other only from social media. I’d always been curious about my father’s side, but it was one of those things I assumed I’d get around to exploring.<\/p>\n
My relationship with my mother’s side is strained. Lately, I’ve felt the loss. I knew it was time to act if I wanted family members I could be close to. <\/p>\n
“I have a work event in Nashville,” I lied to my brother in a message. “Do you want to have coffee when I’m in town?”<\/p>\n
There was no work event. Coffee was a low-stakes meeting I could get out of if it didn’t go well.<\/p>\n
“That sounds awesome. I’d love to meet up,” he responded.<\/p>\n
Just like that, I planned a 1,500-mile road trip tomeet a sibling I hadn’t seen in over three decades. <\/p>\n
I wanted to know more about our father<\/h2>\n I wondered what we’d talk about. I wanted to know who he was and how it was growing up with our father, who’d remarried and moved when my parents divorced. My father was a bassist in Nashville, Tennessee, touring with stars like Reba McEntire before he died in 2011. <\/p>\n
I reserved a hotel with an atrium; depending on how things went, my brother and I could talk for hours without the constraints of a coffee shop, or I could excuse myself due to “work obligations.” I was nervous because the meeting held so many possibilities. <\/p>\n
I recognized my brother immediately. We embraced without words, and it felt almost like a homecoming. I forgot about my nervousness as we settled into our conversation.<\/p>\n
I had endless questions about our father. I learned he was one of those cool parents \u2014 fun with few household rules. I imagined being a teen in that home, instead of spending those years in foster care. We connected over shared family dysfunctions and memories of our father introducing us to the intricacies of music.<\/p>\n
We were very similar<\/h2>\n My brother and I were more alike than I’d anticipated. Our childhoods and teenage years were troubled. We were each our family’s black sheep. We’d both gotten ourselves on track as adults. I rarely meet others like myself, yet our lives had so many parallels.<\/p>\n
“I don’t have a work thing here,” I admitted. “I didn’t want it to be weird that I drove 10 hours to see you.” He laughed, saying he understood. He teased me a bit about the white lie.<\/p>\n
“Have you been to Lower Broadway?” I asked during a lull in our conversation.<\/p>\n
I’d heard of the downtown neighborhood described as a combination of Times Square and the Las Vegas Strip, something fun for us to experience together for the first time. He shook his head. He’d moved away as a child. He’d been back in Nashville for only a few weeks.<\/p>\n
“It looks crazy there,” I said. “Do you want to go?” <\/p>\n
We arrived at dusk, and the streets were packed. Almost every storefront was a bar with live music playing in the open windows. Each had a unique neon sign. The aroma of aged liquor wafted out of the bars as we passed, blending with cigarette smoke and musky perfume on the street.<\/p>\n
Our conversation shifted in that environment. We shared war stories, the most extreme things we’d done growing up and into our 20s. I haven’t confessed like that to friends at home; in many incidents, I was old enough to know better. In his stories, so was he. It was the first time I admitted to my worst, most fun, and most dangerous adventures and knew the listener would have their own tales, rather than judge me for mine. <\/p>\n
When I reached out, I was prepared to drive almost anywhere to meet my brother “for coffee.” I hadn’t fully articulated to myself what the meeting would mean, but I got what I was looking for. Carried along with the crowds in that anything-goes atmosphere, we forged a richer, more honest bond than we could have found at the hotel.<\/p>\n
Considering how deeply we connected, beginning almost as strangers, maybe we’d been destined to spill our secrets to each other all along.<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My dad remarried and had a son, my half brother, who I had met once. I wanted to know more about my dad, who died in 2011, so I lied to my brother to meet up. We learned that we’re more alike than we thought, and it’s brought us closer together. loading Something is loading. …<\/p>\n
Woman Lied to Brother so They Could Reunite After 30 Years Apart<\/span> Read More »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\nWoman Lied to Brother so They Could Reunite After 30 Years Apart - harchi90<\/title>\n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n\t \n\t \n\t \n