Thanks for the memories...

Sunday, November 7th, 2010

I don’t remember much about being born…who does…or the first few years of my life, but what memories I do have of that time are pretty much with or about my older brother, Jim. He was three years my senior and since we lived in the middle of no where, I was all he had. We grew up like brothers do, playing together, fighting over insignificant things, teaming up against siblings that would follow and, of course, our parents. We shared a bedroom for most of 18 years and I was there for all of his firsts…girlfriend, wrecked car, smoke, beer, and the first time he cried beyond childhood. Later in life, we would work together and see each other every day for ten years. Somewhere along the way, in addition to being brothers, we became best friends.

I lost Jim on October 30th and I now know that my life has been changed forever. I wouldn’t have thought it would be so tough, but maybe the suddenness has caused the heightened pain…I don’t know. I already knew he had very few material things, but when I went through his house following his death and discovered more about the way he lived and the things that were important to him, it gave me a different perspective on my big brother. He’d been the party guy most of his life, and it had taken a toll on his body and led directly to his premature death, though that’s another story. What surprised me most was the collection of things he’d saved his entire life and kept in the bottom drawer of an unused dresser. Amongst other trinkets, I found a birthday card from his new, baby brother, me. It was water-stained and stuck to other old cards, but after 55 years, it was still there. It was that moment that I realized exactly how much I would miss him and how little importance he placed on material things over those that mattered…the ones that tell you the true measure of a man. He was, after all, a caring, compassionate man with tender feelings he’d seldom shown me. He will be missed by those who knew him well and whose lives he touched with his humor, friendship and giving nature.

I did some exercising during the week following his death, but not much. I managed a couple of good runs, but the eating I did at all of the family gatherings easily outdistanced the calories burned. In a small way, I was honoring Jim’s feelings on running. He knew that I ran track and told me one day while drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette that it didn’t make any sense to run around and around, end up in the same place I’d started, and be sweaty and tired for the effort. He was quite the physical specimen.

I’ll be back on the horse tomorrow, though, and hopefully not getting off for some time. Thanks for waiting.