January 2, 2025
Time is both too soon and too late.  
Just keeps slipping.


    I believe it was 1996 or 7 when I flew out to Bainbridge Island to see my brother, Mike.  He was very ill and my Mom was worried and wanted me to go assess the situation, which I did, probably in not such a diplomatic way.  He really was ill.  His liver was failing and he wasn't getting put on the transplant list, yet.  I've never quite understand the whys and the wherefores of all that.  But for the next 4 or so years he maintained, so sick, sometimes optimistic, sometimes beaten, but he made it to a liver transplant in August 2000 in Worchester.  
    24 years ago, holy shit.  EJ's entire life, a third of mine; and again he kept living, kept listening to music and trying to be kind and never regaining any reliable health.   His story is fascinating, and I'll tell it sometime, but not tonight.  Tonight I just want to be with him as is, as he slips away.  I wish I could fly to Seattle, but I also know he knows I'm not far away in spirit.   
    A few years ago I had a poem published in Silkworm.

        For Mike

There are no sounds of silence in Spring.

Life reopening is noisy.

 

I remember waiting, listening

for the sound of you coming

home and how safe it made me feel.

I’d lie in bed and wait to hear the roar

of the motorcycle zipping up the driveway.

 

With the dog by my side

and you in the house,

Daddy was less likely to wander

through stumbling.

 

I no longer listen for your homecoming

I haven’t in 40 years

Yet the sounds of springtime still remind me of you

the armour of an older brother.

 

    I want tonight to be as gentle as possible for my oldest handsome brother.  I want him to slip away now, not have to maintain.  You did the best you could, you did a lot, and you are kind.  Please, be at peace and know we all love you, dearly.

 


    My day was super full.  One of the sweet things was to see an old friend with his grandson, they spend Thursdays together. 

    And I did a few other things before I got the news and had some really touching moments.  It began to snow and I came home to the safety of my own place.  I'm lucky tonight, I have oil, food and a roof.  I am lucky a lot of the time.  I am blessed.  


    I can't believe this all happened on my second day of the blog.  I had envisioned several new photos and some new poems to share, but that will have to wait.   Think warm thoughts for me.   And know I'll keep on keeping on,  It's bred in the family genes.   Good night.


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