They say time heals all wounds…that may be true but time does not fill the hole left in your heart when someone you love dies…that piece is gone forever. You can be happy again and sometime you forget how unhappy you were and then there is a wave of memories that hit you right in the center of your chest….all the sadness comes flooding back no matter how many years have passed.
To commemorate the fourth anniversary of my brother Gary’s death, my parents and I visited upstate New York. We shared stories and laughter together. It reminded me of childhood family vacations, just the four of us driving around and seeing the sights. It was good to remember and have this time together. And for a minute time was healing.
What if we woke up today with only those things we thanked God for yesterday? I woke up April 27, 2012 without a brother. He died in his sleep. Gary was just 47 years old.
The sheriff came to my house three times to tell me but thankfully I was protected by God for an entire day from receiving this news alone. I am weak when it comes to death. I fall apart. I was running errands all day oblivious to the sadness that awaited me that evening at 8. By then my children and husband were home. We consoled each other through the shock.
They say you remember your childhood better if you have a sibling close in age because you see your life and build memories through them. I was just 10 months old when Gary was born. I am sure he is the reason I remember so much. He was blond and I was dark. He was tall and I was short. (Maybe that’s why I sometimes think I am a tall blond.)
He came into the world in a rush, delivered by my Grandma Isabelle in the car in her driveway on the way to the hospital. I keep remembering that he was a fat baby, but he wasn’t… he just had a cute double chin.
From the time we could both speak, we argued. It drove my mother crazy. If I said the sky was blue he would say it was aqua…. and vice versa. I constantly corrected him as the worldly and knowledgeable “older” sister. We shared a room and even a bed for some time when we were little. We’d help Mom haul the water and Dad chop wood. We were a team.
At Birch Grove Elementary they put us in the same class and the same grade because I was born in October and had to wait a year and he was born August 31 and he just made the September 1 cut off. This was not a good thing for Gary. I know I owe him a mountain of apologies for being so competitive. We were compared every day as if we were twins but he was almost a year younger, it was never fair.
School was a sore subject but I remember we had many good times too. We swam at Temperance River, went camping on weekends, and built tree houses and forts every summer. In high school we sometimes worked together. One winter at Satellite’s Country Inn he cooked and I waitressed. He drove us to work in a 1950 Ford classic truck. When the windows were frosted over I would hang out the passenger side going down Highway 61 and direct him to stay on the road.
Just days after graduation he left for trade school and I moved to the Grand Marais campground. We were busy starting our lives. He married and had three children before I even found a career. My nephews and niece were such a joy to me. I could get my “baby fix” and not worry about having my own until years later. He married a second time and his youngest son is very close in age to my boys. I liked to tease Gary that he had excellent taste in wives as my ex-sisters-in-law are two of the most beautiful women you would ever want to meet.
Gary and I grew apart these last couple of years. We would visit only at holidays. He was busy with his life and I with mine. The last time we were together was 11 months before he died when we celebrated our parents’ 50th wedding anniversary in Schroeder. He looked handsome. I don’t remember if I told him that. I should have told him…. and I should have thanked God that I had a brother…yesterday.
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