My Brother, Randy

I think about my brother Randy every day now. He died on April 8, 2009 at the age of 62. He had a long history of medical problems, but in the last two years had been doing so well I didn't expect his life to end so abruptly. He had cardiac bypass surgery at the age of 50. That was followed by multiple vascular surgeries over the years. Three years ago he had a stroke, but he came back to full function. He had found a renewed sense of life. He fell in love again. He was exploring life in new ways. He had future plans. The day I heard he was hospitalized, I raced to his bedside as I had so many times before. I went home that night with my heart and brain split in two. It felt like all the other times, when I had worried and supported the family through it. But he wasn't waking up this time in spite of full resuscitation and support. I knew what that meant since I am a nurse practitioner. I knew that if he didn't wake up by the next day, we were going down another path than we'd ever been down before. The next day he didn't wake up. I called all of the family and let them know we all needed to be there. It came to having to make the tough decision and letting him go because he was already gone. I'm so thankful we were with him.

Every day I think about him. I wonder if I did that before he passed. We stayed in close touch, almost every day through the internet. Also by calls and visits. He had been there for my husband and I when we lost our son last summer. We were together for holidays and birthdays. We have shared the ups and downs of family, strengths and weaknesses, laughter and tears, family jokes and secrets, the losses and gains, the achievements and the failures, the births and deaths and weddings and divorces in our family. Celebrations and sorrow. But we had always done it together. Not thinking about it, just being there together, like some invisible thread that connected us. We have been part of the same quilt all our lives. Even in his passing, we are part of the same quilt made of scraps of our lives sewn together with strong sure hands, a visual and tactile representation of our shared experiences. Right now I'm wrapped in that quilt thinking of our times together.

His memorial service was quite touching. Not only was every member of our family present, but long time friends and new friends he had been involved with over the past two years. There was a mass held for him in a large cathedral in San Francisco, and it was filled to capacity. It was quite remarkable to speak to others that knew my brother. He had become a volunteer for some wonderful organizations in San Francisco. He was completing his training as an ESL teacher, so he could return to Viet Nam to teach English, after having been there during the Viet Nam War. He had touched many lives. It was remarkable to see the other quilts into which he had been woven.

But right now, I think about him every day. I miss him and love him. He will never be taken away from me. I'll remember you forever, Randy, because we have always been together, and always will be. You are part of my heart and my life forever.