For Years, My Brother Was The Untouchable Golden Child. But After…

Confronting the Enablers

Mom phoned me Tuesday night and started crying before saying hello. She asked me to drop the lawsuit because seeing the family breakup was hurting her.

She said Jason learned his lesson and was getting therapy, so legal action was retribution, not justice. After five minutes of listening, I questioned her directly.

I stated Jason stole $150,000 from her ill mother-in-law and wasted money while Grandma was poor. Does she think Jason should be punished or treated and move on?

Mom was quiet before admitting Jason did wrong, but she said he was sick and punishing him wouldn’t bring Grandma back or get the money. She said, “I prioritized money before family and would regret cutting these relationships later.”

I knew from that conversation that my mom would never punish Jason. Keeping in touch with my parents meant accepting their story of Jason as a sick victim rather than a robber who took from a dying woman.

I asked Mom some time to think about our relationship. She wept harder, saying, “I abandoned the family like Jason.”

After the talk, I sat in my car for 20 minutes to process. Dad wrote me a formal email on family decisions and consequences two days later.

He stated suing Jason would mean leaving the family. The email described their aid with my first year of college before I got scholarships, the automobile they co-signed for me when I was 22, and my stays with them between locations.

Dad said I returned their love and effort by beating my brother when he needed family support. I had one week to join this family or continue my bitterness and retribution.

The email was forwarded without remark, and Mr. Thompson called me an hour later to say there was more confirmation of Jason’s familial past that allowed his behavior for years. Uncle David called that weekend to say he’d talked to Aunt Rebecca and Nenah.

They wanted to start a support group for us dealing with Jason’s theft and our parents enabling. Our Thursday night gatherings shifted to Uncle David’s.

We started with just the four of us, laughing over our parents’ ludicrous defenses of Jason and agreeing that we were right to expect consequences. After Nenah brought her notes from years of watching Jason affect family members, we started noting patterns we’d all seen but never connected.

Aunt Rebecca brought coffee while we reviewed my parents’ guilt trips. Uncle David told stories of family members who ignored harmful behavior and underlined the significance of setting limits, even nasty ones.

I barely survived those weeks of court and family stress with Thursday sessions. Jason’s financial disclosure papers arrived five weeks after the lawsuit in a large manila package Mr. Thompson gave me in his office.

Jason lacked assets; only a seven-year-old car with a broken gearbox in my parents’ driveway. No savings, retirement, or property.

His debt to online gambling, personal loan companies, and maxed-out credit cards was $60,000. He averaged 20 hours a week in a call center for minimum wage for four months.

He lived with our parents for six months, unemployed and looking for work. Each debt, failed payment plan, and collection account was listed.

Mr. Thompson spread the files on his desk and said winning the lawsuit wouldn’t ensure compensation if Jason had a real job. We might garnish his wages for years or decades, depending on state law.

However, collecting from a negative net worth proved hard. He showed me that wage garnishment takes 10 to 15% of a paycheck after taxes and other deductions, while Jason’s part-time minimum wage position only made $30 to $40 a month.

This pace would take over 400 years to recover $150,000. Mr. Thompson said, “We may seek the judgment since it would legally show Jason’s behavior and damage his credit and finances but I accepted that money recovery would take time.”

After seeing Jason’s financial statement in that office, I had to decide if prolonged litigation was worth it. The idea was to keep Jason accountable and get the family some of Grandma’s money.

Why pay extra for legal fees if there’s no recovery? I read disclosure data to Uncle David from my car in the parking lot.

He said it wasn’t about money after a pause. The goal was to hold Jason accountable for his conduct rather than provide sympathy.

Nenah told me that evening that if we dropped the lawsuit, Jason would learn he could do bad things without consequences. The next Thursday, we sat around Uncle David’s kitchen table with coffee and financial disclosure forms to explore our options.

Uncle David said he’d seen too many cases as a cop when family members let things slide because punishment looked too harsh or expensive and the offender kept doing worse things because they knew they’d get away with it. Nenah remarked that we’d paid the retainer and filed the lawsuit, so withdrawing now would imply Jason won by being poor and sad.

I agreed this was about teaching that family activities had consequences, not money recovery. Two days later, Mom called to tell me her therapist had a breakthrough.

Her voice sounded weary and less defensive, like tears. She said she was starting to realize how her prejudice for Jason had damaged both of her boys over the years.

How she’d held me to impossible standards while letting Jason get away with anything because she was afraid of losing his love. She apologized for her hypocrisy, for making me pay for the garage door while giving Jason a new truck after drunk driving, and for ignoring my successes while acknowledging Jason’s failures as learning opportunities.

She remembered moments from our childhood and adolescence that I’d mentioned thousands of times but she’d always ignored. I’d never heard her apologize so honestly, like she noticed the pattern rather than explaining herself.

She cried as she described how she’d accepted Jason’s conduct for so long, producing the person who could steal from his dying granny and needed to take responsibility. She hoped that since she accepted everything, I would drop the lawsuit and let the family proceed.

She understood why I was angry and unhappy and acknowledged that she’d caused a lot of that suffering, but she advised suing Jason would make things worse and delay recovery. She wanted us to focus on family again, assist Jason’s rehabilitation, and create a healthy, respectful, and loving relationship between her boys.

Her earnest apology sounded like she was confessing past wrongs but not current consequences. She admitted she’d been incorrect for years but wanted me to shelter Jason from his mistakes, which exacerbated this problem.

I complimented Mom for realizing the bias and unequal standards, stating it meant more. I wanted long-term behavior change, not just words and promises over the phone.

I said abandoning the lawsuit now would continue Jason’s lifelong protection from consequences. She sobbed harder and stated I was cruel and unforgiving because I was retaliating for her attempts to make things right.

I remained calm and highlighted that behavior change mattered, not conditional apologies. She said she couldn’t fix things without my opportunity.

I persuaded her that letting the case proceed would benefit everyone. After the call ended without a conclusion, I felt exhausted and dejected but secure in my choice.

A Hollow Settlement

Jason completed his 30-day gambling treatment program at a clinic my parents paid for. Six weeks after the meeting, they invited the entire extended family to a lunch to celebrate and encourage him for managing his recovery.

Mom sent restaurant and time information to the group, congratulating Jason on quitting his addiction. Mom asked me to attend the dinner two days prior, saying Jason would feel encouraged by his brother.

I didn’t reply to the group text. I told her I wouldn’t celebrate Jason finishing basic therapy he should have done years ago as he was only in treatment for stealing $150,000.

She said Jason was improving and deserved praise, whereas I was selfish and holding grudges instead of helping family. Dad texted me that I was failing them again and choosing anger above family unity after I said “no thanks” and hung up.

I missed the legal complaint mediation a week after Jason’s celebration lunch. Mr. Thompson called me the morning of mediation to say Jason’s attorney wanted to settle rather than go to trial.

Mr. Thompson, Jason’s attorney, and I mediated over a long table in a downtown law office conference room. Jason wasn’t present at mediation, which his attorney said was typical because parties made bargaining difficult.

A simple settlement was suggested. Jason signed paperwork admitting stealing Grandma’s money.

He agreed to deposit $150 per month for 10 years into Grandma’s heirs’ account. He would also agree to gambling addiction therapy with evidence every three months.

If he missed payments or quit, the rest would be due immediately. His counsel said this was a reasonable conclusion that admitted guilt and considered Jason’s ability to pay.

He stressed that the study would cost more and yield poorer results. We went to a smaller conference room down the hall because Mr. Thompson wanted to think about the offer quietly.

He showed me his calculator math: $150 per month for 10 years is $18,000, or 12% of Jason’s Grandma theft. He said this was better than wage garnishment given Jason’s job situation for financial recovery.

Jason’s legal admission of misconduct was the settlement’s true value, which would follow him forever. Even though the financial recovery was small, Mr. Thompson advised accepting the settlement because it established penalties and legal accountability.

He also noted that going to trial would cost $6,500 with no guarantee of a better outcome and that courts favored defendants who confessed guilt and presented fair payment plans. I called Uncle David from the conference room and read him the settlement conditions, including the acknowledgement of culpability and compensation.

He put me on speaker so Nenah could hear, and we argued whether Jason was getting off easy for taking such a small payment. Nenah found $18,000 insulting versus $150,000.

We already knew Jason had nothing to steal, so Uncle David said this was more about admittance than money. After a long pause, Uncle David suggested we should accept it when I asked what they thought honestly.

He stated that Jason’s formal admission of violating fiduciary responsibility would be on his permanent record, damage his ability to have power of attorney or manage others’ funds, and prove he took from his dying Grandma. That on record was better than litigating for years over money we’d never obtain.

Nenah agreed. We concluded this was about setting sanctions and documenting Jason’s admission in a way that couldn’t be contested or reduced, not full financial recovery, which was unachievable given his position.

Mr. Thompson’s office hosted the signing the next week. Jason, his attorney, and my parents looked like they were at a funeral, not their son confessing to stealing from his dying Grandma.

With only six people at the table, the conference room felt smaller. Mr. Thompson read the settlement documents to Jason.

He said, “Jason Young, you acknowledged that you breached your power of attorney duty to Dorothy Young. You took $150,000 from her online gaming accounts between January and June.”

When Jason took the pen, his hand shook. He left and signed each document as his attorney instructed while my mom grabbed his shoulder.

His admittance was now formal and unchangeable. Mr. Thompson collected the completed documents and made copies for everyone while Jason stared at the table and my parents looked at me like I’d ruined their son’s life instead of just holding him responsibility for Grandma’s.

My parents called three days after signing. Dad spoke largely as Mom cried.

They sought to discuss payment terms since $150 a month would prevent Jason from recovering financially. Maybe we could cut it to $75 or let them pay.

I reminded Dad that Jason had to pay and that third-party payments would void the deal. He hesitated and said I was too harsh while Jason was fighting his gambling addiction and repairing his life.

I told him Jason spent $150,000 while Grandma ate generic bread at home and that $18,000 over 10 years was simple. Mom answered the phone and wept because I placed money before family and that she didn’t teach me to be that cold and rude.

I hung up when she asked why I couldn’t move on.