His daughter, Heidi, took this picture.
I pirated it from Facebook. Thanks, Heidi!
This is my brother, Bruce.
He lives in Portland, Oregon and I don’t get
to see him often. The last time I went to visit
was about 9 years ago. We talk on the phone
and he has a facebook account that he NEVER
looks at, but it has been 9 years.
So – tomorrow – Cynthia and I are flying to
Growing up, he was my big brother
(actually ALL three of my brothers were
big brothers) but Bruce was also my friend.
We talked- you know what I mean- about more
than just the happenings of the day.
He opened up windows into the future for me,
helped me to see patterns in the world and to
figure out where and how I could find a place to
matter in life. But like most of my siblings, he was
a lot older and moved on in his life while I was still
searching for a direction to follow.
And like me, Bruce is a recorder of places and people
and events. Our stories remain consistent and match
up- whereas our sibs stories are kind of vague and hazy-
our memories are sharp and clear.
This is important to me.
I like to know that my memories aren’t colored by time
and emotion. I like to corroborate them with someone
who also remembers.
Because I’m a great story teller- and I can shade a story to
tell what is convenient or really just makes a better “story”.
So it is great to have some one else’s memory to line up with,
a ruler to measure up what is true and what is fantasy.
One week in nine years isn’t really enough time to spend
with someone you love.
But it is better than no time at all.