My Brother's Keeper

We Only Have Each Other

The first time I saw my baby brother he was wrapped in a blue blanket, his skin looked like creamy velvet, and a tuft of orange hair stood up on his head.  Yes, that’s right, orange. He was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Even prettier than my Raggedy Ann doll.

At that moment I decided I wanted to take care of him.   It was several months later when he began to rock his crib that I realized he would not always be adorable.  The whole house creaked as the wheels traveled across the bedroom floor banging into walls as it went.  Finally, my father screwed the legs to the floor.  That stopped the movement, but not the creaking.

Time marched on.  I left home for college, developed a worldview beyond the family, got married, had children, and generally followed the path expected of me.

When my folks aged and needed institutional care, I was in charge. Those ten years were difficult.  Relatives lived far away and were unable to help.  I found out later that few families survive these times without criticism and alienation.  Ours was no different.  However, I remembered my father telling me that I should always treasure my relationship with my only brother.  “He’s all you’ll have once Mom and I are gone.”

The history of our lives is charted in our memories.  We recognized each other completely, know the roads traveled, and Dad’s quips, Mom’s recipes, the aunts, uncles, and cousins, alive and dead.  No one could erase our lives. We were alive to each other in an intimate way that could not be replaced. I miss talking to him several times each week. I miss his laugh, his stories, our shared experiences, and the deep affection we felt.

So, let’s celebrate our siblings and each other, and open our hearts to one another.

As Dad said, “We only have each other.”

Joel died this morning. He developed Alzheimer’s Disease. Now they are both gone, My prayer is that they are together in a safe, peaceful place. That’s my prayer. Now I have been replaced by a Higher Keeper!