Rest in Peace, Brother

My younger brother (I have two) was killed in an auto accident over the weekend. I had to call my father (97 yrs.) to tell him his youngest child died. He cried. Seems so wrong to have it be this way. It feels strange. Sad.

From young, I was his protector, his big sister. His ears stuck out when he was little and kids called him Dumbo. Made me mad, so I stepped in and beat them up. Of course. No bullying my brother on my watch. Things got more complex later in life and I could no longer protect him from his destructive life choices. But in an act of grace, he finally took care of himself, got into recovery and worked hard to turn his life around and give back in an effort to re-balance things again.

I cheered him on, admired his constant vigilance and his willingness to live each day as best as he could. None of us know the struggles another faces even if he's a brother. That alone calls us to kindness and compassion. Last time I talked to him he said his life was good and he felt grateful. What I'm grateful for is that he died in recovery and not in the ugly tangle of addiction and the devastation that follows in its wake. There was hurt enough and I believe his regret for that.

Through it all I held the memory of him as a small boy- beautiful, sweet, pure and so much fun. His essence. It got lost for a while. In the process he lost most of what deeply mattered to him. He leaves three amazing daughters, a granddaughter and an ex-wife who is my dear friend. He fought the demons only he saw and re-built his life in an attempt to be of service to those in need. Bless him. I'll miss him. I celebrate him. I hope he is finally at peace.

The Night My Friend Died

She relapsed hell bent, while dark overdrive

took her where she'd not gone for years, far side

of slick slope. She'd clung to recovery, night

meetings sparks of light to lead her way. But she lied

in secret ways or got left with sin's wage,

such fine lines woven between lost and saved,

or God turned his back on this great one, made

faulty wiring when precise was needed. Face

him now, demand redress for her, this nurse 

who loved fierce, taught with passion, like a church

shelters those in need, the worst of the worse

loved wildly, counted in, coins in life's purse,

valued by those with hearts big enough. Back,

bring her back. Back. Gone too soon, just lke that.

My friend died of an overdose recently and broke the hearts of we who loved her. Her presence filled a room. She gave of herself to her patients, advocated tirelessly for them, taught them as if their lives depended on it because it did and laughed with them with her whole body at the foibles that unite us all. I wish she didn't have to go. Damn this disease of addiction and its sabotage of good people's brains.

Written for dVerse Poets Pub for Tony Maude's Bout Rimés. He gave us a list of words to rhyme. They are: drive, side, night, lied, wage, saved, made, face, nurse, church, worse, purse, back, that. They seemed to tell my friend's sad story.