a few days ago, my brother would have celebrated his seventieth birthday. he died three years ago, not long after we moved to our new home here in the mountains. he was five years younger than me, and we lived very different lives. as i think of him, memories come flooding back. when he was born, my parents were building a new home on property next to the building where we had rented an apartment for the previous four years, so his birth coincided with our preparations to move into the home our parents had built for their growing family.
my brother and i shared a bedroom in this new home once he was old enough to move from his crib/youth bed in my parents' bedroom. i started first grade just before my brother turned one-year-old. this meant that as he grew from a baby into a young child i was away from home most of the day. i was so wrapped up in my new life as a schoolboy that i paid little attention to my brother. where i was very independent and self-contained, he was a "mama's boy," clinging to my mother and never wanting to be far from her.
i loved to go stay with my grandparents during the summer. during the first summer after i completed first grade, i spent two weeks with my mother's parents and two weeks with my father's parents, a pattern i continued until i reached high school. near the end of the summer just before my brother's fourth birthday while i was staying with my mother's parents, my brother was stricken with a life-threatening illness. my parents made a desperate drive to the larger town where my grandparents lived in the middle of the night to get my brother to the hospital. he spent several weeks in the hospital, fighting for his life. in those days, children weren't allowed to visit in the hospital, so i couldn't go see him. i can remember standing outside the hospital while my mother brought my brother to the window so we could see each other once he had recovered enough to leave his hospital bed. i felt so helpless standing there waving up to him and wishing that i could just give him a hug. he looked so frail, and it was then that i realized how close we had come to losing him.
that illness changed the dynamics of our family in many ways. my father, who had never been close to me as he was consumed with his work, doted on my brother. he never lost sight of how close my brother had come to death, and anything he wanted my father got for him. my brother used my father's fear of losing him to manipulate my father, as children will do. i remember many family shopping trips when my brother would see a toy he wanted. if my parents told him he couldn't have it, he would throw himself to the floor, kicking and screaming, until my father agreed to purchase for him. i grew to resent this seeming favoritism towards my brother and began demanding that my father treat me equally. my mother pointed out to my father that i was right to feel as i did, and, from that point on, anytime my brother wrangled a new toy out of my father, my dad gave me some money for my little savings account. now, i understand why Dad gave in to my brother, as every day he was reminded how close to death my brother had been.
because of the difference in our temperaments and ages, my brother and i were never really close, though we shared a room. he was more athletic than i, though neither of us were that interested in sports. we both loved music, and both of us took piano lessons and played band instruments. i was more serious about music than my brother and made it my career, but my brother became interested in acting. he starred in many amateur productions in college and later as an adult. he went to work on a boat that did oil exploration in oceans all over the world after dropping out of college and saw much of the world as a result. he eventually married a young woman from thailand and brought her home to the states after the birth of their son.
when my nephew was five, my brother and his wife divorced, and she and my nephew moved away while my brother continued to work on the ship. when that job played out, his company moved him to an office job in their headquarters in the city where his former wife and son lived. this was a good situation for him, as he got to see his son frequently and was able to live a more settled life and renew his love for acting. he completed his college degree and seemed to be content to live a more conventional life. after a few years, another company bought out his company and began letting people go, including my brother. by that time he was in his fifties and was never able to find a permanent job. it seemed that no one wanted to hire someone his age. he was either over-qualified for the positions available or too old. he took a series of part-time jobs but struggled to support himself. he tried valiantly to make a career as a professional actor and got sporadic gigs, even playing a small part in a major movie, but his career never took off.
as he aged, his health deteriorated, probably from a combination of poor nutrition, smoking, and his inability to pay for health insurance. he was stricken with throat and oral cancer, which was eliminated by surgery and follow-up chemo and radiation treatment. then he had pneumonia, a heart attack, and a broken hip. once recovered from all those health crises, he decided to move to the small town where our younger sister lived. i took a truck to the large town where he was living and helped him get moved. he seemed quite happy with his new living situation. my sister was at his house frequently and loved having him near her. just as he began to get settled in and feel at home, he had a heart attack in the middle of the night and died before any medical care could reach him. my sister was spending the night at his home when this happened, so he was not alone when he died.
every year on his birthday, the struggles he faced come flooding back. he worked so hard to make a good life for himself and to support his son. he was the kindest of men, constantly taking in stray animals that were destined for euthanasia were it not for his generosity. it seems as if all the goodness he embodied went unrewarded, with life constantly slapping him down. yet, he never gave up. when a door was slammed in his face, he looked for another to open. i have to believe that the good karma he generated resulted in a better life for him after this one ended. wherever my brother is, i hope that he is happy and surrounded by loved ones and pets who adore him.
may we do the best we can, no matter the circumstances of our lives. may we learn from those who persevere in the face of every challenge. may we never give up on lovingkindness and compassion. may we not live to be rewarded for our good behavior but in order to make life better for those around us. shalom.
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