All right, let’s get this thing started again. There are some funny stories to tell (Emme got stuck in a wall. She’s fine.) and some things that are just mildly interesting (we are getting ready for a Big Trip in July – my first in decades), but it I can’t really talk about those without addressing that my brother died.
Where to begin?
I don’t like writing about private or personal things for several reasons. There is no way to capture the myriad of thoughts and the complexity of emotions when writing about anything. Also, writing is a permanent medium. What I write today may not be what I think tomorrow, but there’s no way to change that. So, while I don’t want to write about this, I will, but don’t feel like you need to comment. Those are permanent words, too.
My brother Phil died. The news of his hospitalization came at the end of a near-perfect day. Lloyd and I had dropped Brad off at the airport very early, then headed to Omaha where the whole city slept in until noon. (It was Memorial Day) We explored the abandoned city on foot and on electric bikes and it was glorious! In a park-like area I saw an owl! I remember that when we stopped to get gas I leaned back on the car with my eyes closed and thought, “This is a beautiful day.”
….then we got the call from my Dad that Phil was in the hospital. He had called an ambulance due to vomiting blood. Throughout the day and into Tuesday, our family – from afar – did what they could. My Dad gave consent for my other brother to manage Phil’s care and my sister flew out to be with him, thinking she would spend time with him as he recovered. As she was traveling from Minnesota to L.A., his condition worsened and worsened and by the time she touched down, he was gone.
It wasn’t suicide. I know people wonder about things like that. It was, however, exacerbated by his life choices. He had many health issues – a bad heart, kidney trouble, liver trouble, knee trouble, back trouble. The pain in his body prevented him from taking care of himself as he should, and he had some excesses – alcohol especially – that led to his sudden, but not unexpected earthly end.
The next two weeks were so strange. Keren was out there and Lloyd went out to help. Together they navigated the Herculean task of emptying Phil’s apartment. They contacted the hospital, the lawyer, the landlord, and found information about Phil’s various accounts and what to do. From Missouri, my other brother and his wife took care of phone calls and connecting with Phil’s ex-wife. I took a few days to go out and spend time with Dad. We had zoom meetings each night to hear an update from Keren and Lloyd and to figure out next steps. After 12 days they finally got to go home. We are not finished with the process.
Phil was cremated and the funeral will be in early August. We had trouble finding a date where people weren’t at conferences or on a Big Trip, which sounds weird but that’s how it is.
The emotions – I’m not great with them. I spend much of my school days helping young children identify and name what they are feeling and learn to process them, so you think I’d be better at this. (This is another problem with writing things down- one should never complain, especially on the internet.) Phil had many good qualities – a generous heart, a brilliant mind, talent seeping out of every one of his pores – but he also had some that were negative. I loved him, but we didn’t always get along. That sounds heartless, but it is one of the things I’m navigating.
So, there’s that. Our family is doing ok. The promise of salvation is what gets us through this. Phil is in heaven, which is the Real Home for us all. He’s with Mom and the grandparents and Jesus! What a wonderful blessing.
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