TheBanyanTree: To my brother

[Russ Doden]

Wow, just wow.  This made my eyes leak.  Thank you.


On Mon, Apr 8, 2019 at 10:06 AM Pam James <pamjamesagain at gmail.com> wrote:

> beautiful Monique...
>
> On Sun, Apr 7, 2019 at 5:50 PM Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com>
> wrote:
>
> > Writing things down in case I forget them and.
> >
> > The day you were born I wasn't there, I was probably at home, where I
> > spent much of my time. Mom hated me hanging around the house so much, I
> was
> > a constant thorn in her side. So she was there when you were born. I do
> > remember smuggling alcohol in to her. Dad said, "Put this under your
> > shirt," So I walked into the maternity ward looking like a 13 year old
> > slightly pregnant girl, the shaker under my shirt clinking with ice,
> > because gin and tonics needed to be served cold.
> >
> > You were not breast fed.
> >
> > Dad and I went into Mom's room and she was sitting up, looking her normal
> > self, as if she hadn't recently pushed you out. The gin and tonic helped
> I
> > think.
> >
> > Next thing I knew, you were at home. There was one bedroom at the end of
> > the hallway that I'd previously shared with our sisters, but they were
> > moved out and on with their own adult lives. The room was long, and when
> > you moved in you got the half on the door side. A divider was put up in
> the
> > middle of the room and I was on the other side. We each had a window, but
> > my side was dark, just the right place for someone like me. Yours was
> > bright and smelled of baby powder.
> >
> > One time I had you on the changing table, changing you. Your Mom was out,
> > so I was in charge of you. The boys and Dad were all watching TV in the
> > family room. I turned to get something, a silly move on my part, and you
> > rolled over and fell on the floor. I was so upset! I'd rather bash my own
> > head in. Dad came to check, but when I picked you up and put you back on
> > the table you acted as if nothing had happened.
> >
> > It was my job to keep you safe, and change diapers, and feed you, and
> > entertain you, and I was very concerned about doing it all properly
> because
> > I loved  this tiny creature so much. Sure, you had a Mom, but I was the
> > stand in.
> >
> > When we moved to Hacienda Heights I had my own room, and you had to room
> > with someone else. I'd never minded rooming with you. We'd spend so much
> > time together anyway. I'd take you to pre-school, pick you up from
> > pre-school, take you to the store with me, entertain you while Mom waan't
> > there. You were always asking me why. Why this, why that, why. So many
> > whys, and I didn't always have answers. But you forgave me.
> >
> > I was there when you fell and hit the side of your head on the glass
> > coffee table, right next to your eye. Chaos ensued. Fortunately Mom was
> > there too, and we took you to the ER. She drove like a bat out of hell
> and
> > I held you, compressing a towel against the cut. I don't remember you
> > crying, but you might have been. About forty years later I fell on my
> face
> > and had a cut right next to my eye. I still have my scar, how about you?
> >
> > I was there when Dad brought you home one day and said you'd fallen out
> of
> > his truck when he was turning a corner. You were banged up, but just a
> > little, so we put bandaids on you because you demanded them. You lay on
> the
> > couch and demanded canned mushrooms to help you recover from the trauma.
> At
> > 4 maybe? Whatever you wanted, you got.
> >
> > That was usually the way. You were the youngest, and you were, as far as
> I
> > can remember, the best child ever.
> >
> > I watched you learn to swim, I let your instructor in and after your
> > lessons I'd give him a beer while he hit on me.
> >
> > One time I tried carrying too much down the stairs at once, and of those
> > things was you. I tripped and fell the rest of the way, and all I could
> > think to do was hold tight to you and keep any part of you hitting the
> > floor at the bottom of the stairs. I landed on my knees, and your Mom was
> > right there, ready to kill me if you had as much as a scratch. But your
> > head was still against my chest , you were fine, and may have enjoyed the
> > ride.
> >
> > My knees never recovered, not really, especially the right one. It's
> never
> > been the same, but it was a small price to pay to keep you safe.
> >
> > We were careless with you in a way that isn't done anymore. You would
> ride
> > in the car standing on the passenger seat from the time you could stand.
> > One day we in the car with Mom, the boys in the back seat, you and me in
> > the front with Mom driving, you standing between us as usual. Maybe you
> > were 4? We pulled into the driveway and Mom, one foot in a cast,
> > accidentally accelerated instead of braked, and the car went right
> through
> > the garage door support between the garage doors. It all happened so
> fast,
> > and my left arm went out to keep you from hurtling through the
> windshield.
> > I'm sure Mom's right arm went out too, it's instinctual in moms to
> protect
> > their babies.
> >
> > When I moved out at 18 you were five, and you were the one I missed and
> > cried about for so long after. No one else really cared that I left , but
> > the way you'd greet me when I came back to visit and want to be with me,
> > even wanting to sleep with me, told me that you missed me too.
> >
> > I have always been proud of you, and even if you don't remember all the
> > fun and terrifying times we had together I always will, until I remember
> > nothing at all.
> >
> >
> > Monique
> > Sent from my iPad
>


-- 
Enjoy Life By Living In Joy

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