Friday, September 23, 2011

Flawed, Fabulous... and in a Funk

Yeah, I said it... funk. Navigating through some of life's trials can do that to you. Oh, we are suppose to be perpetually on our "A" game, that's just not reality. There are some things "stuck in my craw." Here goes....


I want to talk about my brother not being here anymore, how he could bop so cool, make more noise than his grand nieces and nephews when he's playing with them, and all the other things he was and wasn't. I know I will move on in time, but he still lives in my memories and not talking about him is not an option. He was my insight into the life of my maternal grandmother I never knew. Him being the oldest, had the most memory of my mother who passed when I was 10 years old.


I think because he had her the longest, he missed her the most. She passed while he was away in the Army. I'll never forget his red swollen eyes coming up the stairs in his uniform with just a glance at me and closing his bedroom door. I was excited as always to see him because he was such fun, but not that day. No, my big goofy brother's heart was broken and for 48 years on Septmeber 19th, I could hear a little of that heartbreak when he spoke of her, but the ache was out weighed by his great love and admiration of her. She was his biggest support, she was his greatest love.


He remember where we each lived, the description of our home. How mother would get my dad off to work and he and mom would spend the day a her parents house across the street, until time for her to prepare dad's dinner.


He would tell me of relatives, most I only knew by stories told of their "antics", my great uncles I knew only as a young child, their wives and women. People I thought were related because of their ever presence. All the whys and whos. He remembered everything of our growing up and it was wonderful to hear him recount each story. He took great pleasure in doing this, especailly if someone initiated the conversation.


His biggest dream was to own enough land that each female of his family owned a parcel to build her home, that will always be "hers". This land would have a family cemetary, which we would move my mother and her parents. My oldest sister told me he had actually drafted several layouts. One of his trades was drafting.


This dream was one we had in common without ever speaking of it until three years ago. It was eery that the dreams were so similiar. Now (God willing)when I get the land I will do the honors of moving mother, grandparent, nephew and big brother to the family's final resting place.


Please everyone, particularly young people who don't know about the real body (blood pressure, cholesterol, your family medical history), start now doing the things that will grant you a long life worth living. To not take care of your health (mental too!) is selfish and unfair to those who love and depend on you, even they don't know that they do. That strut ain't cute when that body's shot to hell!


Remember the caregivers. Thank them. A caregiver's life is timed around the needs of someone they love and who, without their care, quality of life would suffer.


Say thank you and I love you often. Kiss, hug and pray. Sometimes press your face in your pillow and cry. Or just sit and listen to the sounds and movements around you, footsteps in the hall, children laughing and crying, and those sounds getting closer to you. Light snoring, bed covers shifting, dishes clanking, scent of familiar foods cooking, and your own heart beating. Yes, I am alive and still in the game.


-- Lois

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