Family Portrait

Whoa, the moment has finally arrived and the results are in: I am the official loser of my parents 3 kids. It took a photo posted on facebook to arrive at this conclusion (another reason for my love/hate relationship with fb). My sister has 2 kids ... 4 and 2 ... she's 42. I was somewhat sufficiently jealous of that, but always so so happy for her because she wanted kids for a long time, went through immense challenges regarding pregnancy (emotional and otherwise), so when it was finally her turn, I rejoiced. Now, my brother just became a first time dad at the age of 40 ten weeks ago to a little girl. He and his wife just visited my sister and her husband ... and the photos of that visit have surfaced. My sister's two kids and my brother's infant. Everyone is smiling, big hands, little legs, cousin holding baby cousin, cuddling, holding ... the awe of it all ... the pride, the "I present you, My Family" looks on the parents' faces. Taking in the photos, it felt like the first time I saw Titanic: I saw, I cried, I wanted to jump off the bow. My brother and I aren't close, so to see him, a father in photos ... is a little odd, but mostly, I just feel so far removed ... from him, them, that experience. It was the first time for my sister and brother to hang out as parents ... the visit being a definitive recording of a milestone in their lives. They've come full circle ... closed the loop ... have successfully launched into the world of unconditional love, responsibility, and the your-life-is-no-longer-just-about-you-ness of it all. My brother's baby is so (cliche, I know) ... precious. Just two chubby, creased legs and a heavy head. His huge arm cradling her effortlessly, protectively. What a thrill that must be for his wife to see. She is witness to his home stretch of growth, a fuller spectrum of emotions, and his life forever and beyond tied to hers. I don't think I could feel more alienated, more broken, and more alone.