The Learning To Let Go

Garry John Monaghan entered into my world, kicking and a-screaming on 27th May 1980 when I was aged 2. I immediately took a dislike to his bizarre, flat head and the fact that he had suddenly stolen all my juvenile limelight.

Throughout the majority of our childhood together, we didn't exactly see eye-to-eye and our parents had to regularly intervene in altercations and heated arguments between us. As we moved on into our teens, things certainly did not get much better as the polarity of our aspirations became ever-more pronounced. If I moved in one direction - choosing to stay on at school to do my Highers and go to Uni - Garry would venture off down the other path. Whilst I certainly never judged his decisions or his reluctance to pursue academia, it became apparent that he harboured a grudge about my life choices. My successes and achievements must have served as a constant esteem-bruiser to him and he opted to retreat from lengthy communication with me.

Our estrangement as siblings continued up until one evening after our grandmother had passed away. A drunken heart to heart over our perceived differences, revealed so much about our respective insecurities, our common traits - chiefly, pride - and the awakening realisation that we each possessed what the other person lacked. There and then, in our parents front room, my brother and I made our truce with one another after 27 years of bickering. It's true that certain chapters only end when you close the book.

The memory of my brother hugging me that evening and telling me that he loved me will stay with me forever.