Help Reunite Steve and Jason: A Brother's Plea

Im struggling to find a covor photo of the both of us...our parents took no pictures ...but i promise to put one of us together the second one comes available....Hello everyone. My name is Steve Potter.

Before I tell you about myself and why/who I started this for, I want to say thank you to everyone... from the creators of GoFundMe to those of you who have the ability and willingness to donate, and most of all to those who see this but can't afford to financially help but pray for those in need and keep us in your thoughts... it's the collective awareness and call to our loved ones' aid that has the power to make change. And change is what I'm hoping to manifest through this page....

I'm Steve, I'm 52, and I live in MN. I was born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska. I have one real brother who is a year younger and two half-sisters, and it is my brother Jason that I've started this for. There is a long story behind his circumstances that follows a young boy through group homes, jails, and prison that might offend some people or make you cry your eyes out in gratitude for the life you have... but to me, it's about my little brother who, at a young age, got put into the system and institutionalized because he was misunderstood. He's never done anything violent or hurt anyone except himself through addiction and believing what our parents told him as they physically and mentally abused him. That he was worthless and nothing but trouble.... I, as his big brother, watched helplessly from my hiding spot as they, in their chemical-induced rages, switched him and called him horrible things. You see, I was older, but he was braver... I would take my beatings and curl up quietly crying... but he would fight back... or run if he could, but we were just kids, and every time he would lose, and they would beat him again and again. I watched my little brother be turned into a teenager who trusted nobody and fought for his life in ways that would crush most just to hear described. But somehow, we survived, and as young men looking at the world through the eyes of war veterans, definitely different from most all the kids who grew up our age with loving, supportive families, we were all we had, and we each, in our own way, buried it inside so we could just blend in with everyone else. I found safety and peace in girls and relationships. I could shift the focus to loving and caring for someone else, and as years passed, I had children and got married, although I also became chemically dependent as a means to keep that scared, angry little boy inside me hidden and quiet. But I functioned relatively well in society... but Jason was scarred deeper and stayed in the system from juvenile to his 40s, becoming an institutionalized product of a system that cared nothing for him. And he struggled acclimating to the world outside of those walls... I could still see that little boy in his eyes... my little brother looking at me from this scruffy, broken man's eyes.... his heart, though, was still that of a saint... he tried helping anyone he could... to a fault... he was hurt so many times trying to help others he felt like he was just bad at helping, and he withdrew from our lives, and one day he was just gone... not lost, just not here... he would get in touch once a year or so... but soon years would go by, and then nothing... I couldn't find him. I was living my life on autopilot as we do... and my little adult broken and brave brother was gone.... my heart broke every day but in silence, even from me, because I had to keep going day by day. I just lived my life because I had to, as we do. And one day recently, I heard someone say the name Jason, and like a starting gun going off, I snapped out of the fog of my life, and my brother's face was in my mind like I had no choice but to see his face in my mind, and I looked at my phone, and it was his birthday... instantly, my stomach dropped... I stood up looking around as if there was an emergency I needed to tend to, but everyone within my sight was just doing life... no panicking or running toward me...

I felt deep in my heart something was wrong... that was two days ago, and I've been searching for him since. Today, I found my brother, and he's okay. He had put himself through rehab... struggling with it a little, but if you're an addict or alcoholic who medicated trauma, you will understand his struggles. But he's trying. I started this because my brother is living in a tent alone 7 hours away from me near a lake where we grew up together. And I can't afford to bring him home. My brother is alone, and I'm asking for your help so I can get him and me an apartment in the town I live in. I'm asking for help so we can be old men together, and when the time comes for us to pass, it's together and not alone. I work enough to keep us going once we can get a place; I just don't have the means to get him here, and I stay with my ex's family at the moment. Please help me bring this full circle so we can be family again. Thank you.