This was going to be the summer I had back-to-back adventures, working in London for the Olympics and vacationing in Iceland. In addition to the former and instead of the latter, this was the summer I watched my brother Steve die, in the last couple of weeks helping take care of him so he could die at home as he and his girlfriend wanted. Diagnosed with metastasized esophageal cancer at the end of June, he died on the last day of summer.
A stark description of our childhood sounds too Dickensian to feel right to me — father died young, mother with schizophrenia, moved from relative to relative. Those obscure the other details that we were always loved, always had someone to take us in, always had each other.
He was — he is — the most important person in the world to me. The only one who’s been there always. Even as kids, maybe I didn’t know I’d end up happily paying long distance charges to talk to him and voluntarily going on vacation with him, but he was my only stability in a scary world. All my life he helped give me the confidence to go out in that world and be who I am, because I knew there was someone who knew me better than anyone, who loved me anyway, who was proud of me.
He helped me appreciate music, science, scifi, computers, and “dumb comedies” that weren’t as dumb as I’d snottily dismissed them. There’s a reason I’m drawn to people with smart, sarcastic and slightly goofy senses of humour. And why I never quite believe them when they tell me tall tales.
We share 50% of our DNA, but that’s the least of it. He will always be an important part of who I am.
Simple and lovely. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. My thoughts are with you.
Diane This is so eloquent and heart felt Diane, thank you so much for sharing with us all. It takes such courage to open yourself up like this. I am sure your brother is still very proud of you and will always give you the courage you need.
Much love
Lisa xx
Diane, words are so rarely enough at times like this. Thank you for sharing your story. Steve always sounded like such a great person to me, and I wish I had known him. I want to rail against cancer, again, but you know what? Cancer doesn’t change the great joy of what we had before it was gone. Everything goes eventually…but to me it sounds like you treasured this great gift in your life all along. And you will always have that. Much love to you.
This is heart-breaking, Diane, but what a lovely tribute.
As an only child, you’ve given me a glimpse of what it might have been like to be someone’s big brother. I could only hope to have been a little bit like yours.
I wish there was something I could say to help make it better, but we both know there isn’t.
*hugs*
Chris
A beautiful tribute to Steve …. you were lucky to have each other through the difficult times, and you will have the memories of the wonderful times with a special brother. Love you.
Thanks everyone. It helps to express what he means to me and to have the support of my great friends and family.
Diane, You are an easy person to love, but there is nothing like the love of family. You will always be the little sister looking up to your big brother. He does not have to be with you physically to be with you always and to be protecting you as he always has. I wish we could sit and talk as that always helps and I really enjoyed our chats about everything. Oh, and if you ever need a kick in the butt…I’m here for ya! Know that I’m sending you a virtual hug and a smile as you remember Steve.
Beautiful writing to match a beautiful relationship with such profound love. My heart hurts for you and I will ever be grateful to him for teaching you to properly appreciate the sarcastic & goofy (and will humorously curse him for your immunity to my sometimes creatively embellished truthiness). Much love to you.