My brother Michael was better at asking questions than me. It really reflects how much more critically a nine year old can think about something than a seven year old. For me, this felt as normal as everything else had up to that point, when for him, I think he knew it wasn’t just a usual part of childhood.

He was also exposed to more. My brother went with my parents to court (my dad plead guilty but there was still sentencing hearings), while I must have gone to school or hung out with my maternal grandmother. He probably better understood what my dad did and maybe even asked why, when I knew it was financial, but I think I thought it was tax fraud until I googled my dad while I was in college.

The one time that comes to mind when Michael asked questions I never would have thought of is when we received Valentine’s Day cards from my dad while he was away. We were sitting at the kitchen table and I don’t remember opening them or what the envelopes said, but we were both holding out cards and looking at them.

“Where would he buy the cards?” Michael asked.

“They have a store where he can get some basic things,” my mom answered.

“Did you buy the cards and are just telling us they’re from him?”

As a child, it’s hard to navigate what implausible things are lies that are being told to us for own sake versus what is actually true. I still don’t know where the cards came from.

“Mine won’t open,” Michael said while demonstrating that the card seemed to be glued shut. My mom took the card with Bugs Bunny leaning against a heart with his arms crossed and tried to open it and then flipped it over to show him it was some sort of joke card where the content was on the back. Michael took it back and looked at the generic Valentine’s Day message on the back.

My card opened like a normal card.