Brothers

My brother George, Marvin's best friend, died June 3. I was in Arizona on vacation, coming down with a cold when the call came at 4:30 a.m. Arizona time. He'd died at 4:30 a.m. in St. Louis. His wife Sharon called Marvin, then she called me because Marvin said I'd want to be woke up. George was the last sibling either of us had left, and the closest to my husband. 45 years of fishing trips and various adventures brought them closer together than most people have the privilege to experience. Marvin's taken the first trip to Missouri since then and he's wept over what will not be again. But while I was gone, he grieved alone. I was with family and keeping touch with George's through the next few days, so it was easier for me. We expected the death. We drove to see George the Friday before, and sat for two hours talking with him. When we left, George stood with difficulty, to reach out to Marvin for a hug goodbye. We returned to Springfield for the night to visit with Sheila and Morgan, then home on Saturday.

The Big Piney River in Missouri, so much a part of our family vacation history, brings back more memories of George than any for Marvin. Tonight he talked about many of his good times with George, the talks of family and events sad and happy. Marvin saw him through three wives, listened to his woes, and may have been the only person George fully revealed himself to. And the reverse was true. To lose a brother is one thing. To lose your confidant and friend is another.

Tonight I grieve for both of them ... maybe on the river of heaven, they'll have another float trip.

Marvin will have one more float trip with George in this life ... to scatter his ashes on the river. He'll await that call.

My own memories of George date from about age 4 when he took me on a roller coaster. When he was visiting my folks he'd take me to a cigar store in Danville to watch him play cards (Mom and Dad weren't supposed to know!). I have many stories of him with us after we married. George taught my kids how to play cards, took Art with his family to Florida on vacation, loved my kids as much as his own. He was a flawed human, as are we all. He was often irritating to be with, but never to me. He always treated me like his beloved little sister. He made mistakes that he tried to rectify before he died. I think he did a pretty good job of it. He was a better brother than I was a sister.

But Marvin was the brother he could love unconditionally, and receive love in return. They both should be honored for that bond. I do that here, this day, with these words. May all who read this do so as well.