My Brother
Well, how appropriate that my brother should exit without warning–just so expediently. It echoes the many times, at some family gathering, someone would say, "Where did Terry take off to?" He had a way of slipping out of the room and away from the noise and then reappearing in time to listen, laugh, or politely look briefly puzzled when he really knew the answer to whatever question was being asked (Playing Trivial Pursuit with him was the worst–he had all of his pies in 10 minutes. :-/). I know he will reappear in my head unexpectedly, particularly when I am tempted to present some wicked, borderline humor that would be too much for most, but not for him. Indeed, if I can try it out first on his memory, it may keep me from making a public mistake and allow me to keep my job a little longer. Terry moved away from home to go to college when I was a very young child, so any shared memories of the first 7 1/2 or 8 years of our lives are scarce. We bonded as adults over this very dark, often esoteric humor. I will miss those moments seeing him laugh almost to tears. Getting him to laugh was like winning a trophy. He made me feel like a champion in those moments!
An aside:
Two days after Terry died, I had an appointment at my nail salon. I thought about canceling it, but, as often happens after these life events, everything was surreal, and I didn't know what to do. So I went. Hannah, my nail "stylist" knows me well. I am generally quiet, don’t really like small talk, but I ask her a few questions about Viet Nam and her family, and she asks me a few questions about my job and family. I was extra quiet. I told her the color needed to be blue. She asked me what was wrong and I explained concisely. In this strange plastic and fluorescent environment, with two languages and busy activity all around– and filing, sanding and painting– without any urging she explained her Buddhist beliefs about death in detail while continuing her work. It was a surprising moment reflecting the bonds of humanity and kindness. But more comforting than her elaborations on the continuity of the soul and energy in the universe was what she said when she finished. She said, "If you aren't Buddhist, and don't believe it's okay–because I believe this for your brother." It was emotionally profound and beautiful. What a treasure. It is my wish that all who read this experience the hope and peace I gained by this.
With much love,
Judy (Sis)