Finding Grief

There is a point in everyone life, where grief finds its way into your life. Either through the There is a point in everyone life, where grief finds its way into your life. Either through the There is a point in everyone life, where grief finds its way into your life. Either through the heaviness of grief or the lack of.

The later is my story.

As one grows old, the unstoppable reality is people will start dying. Most are parents, which can happens slowly as they grow older and they grow frail. But that like memories just grow fainter until the time comes when they leave your life.The balance as you lose one parent is to nurture the other until both come to the final reality.

But what is a different grief is to lose a sibling. That is a parallel world. As you are aging, one ineffability goes before you.

In my case it was my eldest brother, Dave. He was always in my life but seldom was he connected.

We were close but he was always but long lapses of separation from the family.

Growing up, he was eventually not at the family vacations. He was allowed to stay home and we would return to a house with furniture missing and neighbors stories of bikers parked in front of our house and police having made visits.

One of my earliest memories with my oldest brother, Dave, is from a vacation in Michigan. Visiting Mackinaw Island was a dream for any Michigander. I was around 2-3 years old, and Dave was about 6 or 7. We stayed at a remote motel and visited the car-free island, enjoying the summer actors pretending to be colonels and the rugged beauty of the place.

The summer was hot and we enjoyed the ruggedness of the island.

One day while at the motel. Dave and I were walking around the motel, exploring. I was always a happy go luck kid with a smile at all times. I wondered into the outdoor pool. The water looked hypnotic. I gazed into the water and found my gaze was no longer looking in. I was looking up through the water. Seemingly falling miles under the water. I remember looking up and seeing the sun light hit the water. No one was around. No lifeguard or adult. My life in a dramatic tail spin of unknown parallel.

What I remember to this day was seeing my brother jump into the water. Sinking to my rescue. He did not know how to swim. His life was in as much jeopardy as mine.

He somehow got to me, grabbed me and walked under water to the nearest ladder. Carried me up and got me out of the water.

All I remember after that was a severally punished by my parents.I am sure it was out of the shear terror my parents must have experienced for what could have been.

Because of this selfless act, I am alive. My brother Dave allowed me to live another 60 years because of a brothers love. But now he is gone, I find I am not grieving as you would think. So I am writing to help remember the brother I lost this week.

The other connection we always had was music. Because he was 4 years older, his influence in early 70's music was significant. He would have me listen to Black Sabbath, Grand Funk and all the guitar music of that time. He played guitar early in life and was in many bands. I had a small keyboard and he brought me to play with a band, not not even knowing how to play.

He would take me over the years to the many bands he joined. I was the little kid allowed to join the "Big boys" and listen to loud music and eventually to know the affects of mood altering drugs.

In high school I started playing the family organ. I would create 10 minute fugues and eventually my younger brother joined me. We wrote huge composition in a dark paneled room. Because keyboards were not as prevalent as guitars. We were curried into joining his latest band. Both myself and my youngest brother not really musicians. We had borrowed instruments from a local music store that somehow forgot we had them. So that began my short stint as a working band for 2-3 years with my oldest brother on guitar. He was famous with all his friends as "Wailing Dave" with long bright red hair and the chops of Rory Gallagher. This also led to me hearing loss.

My brother Dave left home early to get married to his girlfriend. To get her away from an family with issues. His wife became like a sister. We spent more time then we did with Dave. Eventually because they were married so young. Divorce came between them and that would change Dave forever.

Now 45 years later, Dave has left the world. Somewhat alone in the world and having isolated himself from everyone. I want to remember him. So I write and I cry and morn as I do.

Life is a long story, not defined by a single moment. We all have many stories to tell, and this is just a brief one about the brother I lost. Now, I can grieve. His story is not about how it ended, but how it unfolded throughout his life.

I love you Dave!