A good friend lost his brother this week. He was only 52. This news touches me deeply because I have two brothers who are not much older; I am 50. When I spoke to my friend the other day, he sounded like his normal self but said the news was still sinking in.
My friend noted that Garrison Keillor also lost a brother this week and wrote a short essay about it on Salon.com. Keillor describes his brother as an engineer and a sailor who loved the thrill of tacking back and forth in his small craft either on water or on ice. "He switched careers from mechanical to coastal engineering so as to get himself out on boats," Keillor says. "Philip practiced the delicate art of brotherly love. He always knew what you were doing and he kept his critical opinions to himself. He called me once to ask how I was doing and I knew without his saying so that he knew about some nonsense I was up to and wanted me to stop it and I did stop it without his ever mentioning it. That's how he worked, no motor, just angles."
I asked my friend what message he would like to convey to those who ask about flowers or memorial gifts. He responded, "In lieu of flowers please give a thought to those who shared your childhood because even as you remember them, so they remember you, better than you might think."
-- Pat Jones
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2 comments:
This really speaks to me. It makes me want to call my brother and several of the close friends with whom I grew up. Thanks.
-- A friend and parishioner
This is amazing. Even though I'm now in my 60s, my childhood friendships seem so close to me now. Thanks for sharing.
-- E.B.
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