How A Day Out In Sydney Changed The Relationship With My Estranged Brother

I still remember, I was seven when my baby brother was born. It was the happiest day of my life. For five years, I hated being an only child and would envy my friends whenever they talked about their siblings. So, I took matters into my own tiny hands and started pestering my parents for a baby (not bad for a seven-year-old, right?).


And then, on a May morning, my uncle picked me up early from school with a beaming smile and the best news: my mom had just delivered a baby boy. I was over the moon. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends.


Despite the 7 year age gap, we got on pretty well. We grew up side by side, pulling pranks, sharing laughs and tears, supporting each other and of course, fighting too. He was the one person I could talk to about anything like classroom troubles, relationships, break-ups — and vice versa. But somewhere along the way, we drifted apart. I think it started when he left for college in Melbourne. The calls became less frequent, then they stopped. By the time he graduated, I had moved out and gotten married. We were leading completely separate lives and it broke my heart. I tried reaching out many times, but he always seemed distant and uninterested.


Then came our father’s 65th birthday. I saw it as a rare chance, maybe even the last, to reconnect. The day after the celebration, I asked Mom to convince him to spend a day with me. He strongly resisted at first. But eventually, he gave in and agreed to do it. I planned it well—we were to go on a lunch cruise in Sydney and then do the Bondi to Coogee walk.

The next day, I reached home at 11.30pm to pick him up. But to my surprise, he wasn’t ready and was still hesitant to come. But after rounds of repeated compelling, he got ready and we went to the departure location. I had booked a luxury glass boat with the thought that I could impress him. We started the cruise—we glided past Sydney’s wondrous locations like the Opera House, Harbour Bridge, Luna Park and many more. But all these beauties failed to “wow” me. My mind was completely occupied with one gigantic thought—to get my brother to talk. I tried initiating conversations many times, but he either didn’t reply or said he didn’t wanna talk. It literally broke my heart. We had our lunch and returned back.


Then we headed for the 6 km Bondi—Coogee walk. I didn’t attempt to talk for the first couple of kilometres, because I was shattered like hell. My brother was walking in front of me and then a wave of emotions got hold of me and I suddenly grabbed him by the collar. I was all teared up, sobbing hard—and I loudly asked him the reason for not talking and ignoring me for years. I let loose all the years of my bottled-up frustration and emotions. After a long pause, he replied with welled-up eyes. He hugged me and broke down in front of me. And then he slowly started explaining things. And I had never been so shocked in my entire life.


My brother, the little boy with whom I played with, was doing drugs and battling chronic depression for seven years. I couldn’t believe my ears—my whole life started falling apart. However, he said that he had overcome the drug issue—with difficulty of course—but the depression still lingered. I asked why he didn’t reach out to me and the answer was even more disturbing. He said that he tried to reach out multiple times.

His depression started at college—the exact time when I got into a job (you can possibly imagine the corporate exploitation that a beginner has to undergo). And I couldn’t look into any other matter than my own. I became self-centred and lived with the objective of only making money. In the course of building my career, I neglected my most precious gift—my familial relations. And all these times when I thought that he was at mistake, it was me, only me, who was at mistake. He was an introvert at the outset and only had a few friends. I was the only one he could talk to. And when the only source of reliance and support fell apart, he had no one to share his grievances, hence the depression. He also had no money to see a good therapist for this clinical problem.

He talked for an hour about his problems and finally when he stopped, I gave him a tight hug and said sorry for ignoring him. I then promised that I would never leave his side until he got better. The first thing I did after the walk was find him a good (and expensive) therapist. Really, it’s the least I could have done. From this, I learned that a simple day out can have a powerful impact on the trajectory of your life—all it takes is the willingness to make the change.

For more details : https://www.australiancruisegr....oup.com.au/sydney/lu