My nephew told me a story about my brother tonight that I did not know. It happened during the time when I was living with my grandparents and he was living with my mother. It hurt my heart to hear it and it made me feel very guilty. It made me feel selfish for abandoning him to the safety of my grandparents. It's hard to wash away that guilt.
The thing is, rationally, I know it's not my guilt to bear. My mother set up this situation and poisoned my brother against his own grandparents so he didn't even know when to call them for rescue. It is her fault, but I doubt she ever felt a moment's remorse for her actions.
She's dead now. My brother tries very hard to be a good father to his kids. I didn't have children I could harm. The cycle will be broken.
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