Friday, October 5, 2012

My Brother, My Hero

Tracy, Jeff, Michael, Bruce

Life, in any form, should be impossible; every moment, however mundane, is a miracle. Very few people ever see that, and that is as it should be; otherwise we might stand about all evening, staring at leaves of grass. When I first read Walt Whitman, I saw that he knew the mundane miracle. My brother, Jeff, also saw miracles at every turn of the world. He had no B.A. or B.S., especially no BS. His word was truth, and you could count on it like coins.

He was a robust man, an eighteenth century man, cutting through the fog facade of politics, while felling a tree with an iron axe; laughing at the foibles of religion, while whispering with the spirituality of a saint. He held all people, of every station, in high esteem. He was my hero, even though he was younger by four years; he had grace, wisdom, and rough-hewn character. I thought he was invincible; death could not touch him. This day, he passed. He is invincible; even in death, he cannot be touched, unless one could touch everything at once.

There, reaching out, at the end of your fingertips, you will find him, in the miracle.    

11 comments:

  1. I am so very sorry to hear of your loss. He sounds like a wonderful man, a fellow caretaker of wonder.
    Keeping you and yours in my thoughts and in my heart.

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  2. Michael, I am so so sorry. Words cannot help, but I offer them anyway. Your brother does indeed sound like a wonderful man.

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  3. What a great tribute. I'm so sorry for the loss of your brother. Tonight, I send up a kind thought in his honor.

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  4. Michael, I can imagine and cannot imagine. When I think of the younger brother I can barely stand to think of ever losing, I can imagine, except, since I haven't lost him, I can't. Thinking of you.

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  5. What a terrible loss, for you and the whole world.

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  6. Jeff was a very wonderful man. I will never forget his easy smile, the straight on look that seemed to pierce right into ones soul,and his floppy hat he refused to go anywhere without, the love he had for his daughters, the pride he showed when he spoke of the bike he built for his daughter. He was never too busy to listen, and never too self absorbed to care. My life was touched by him..and I was very lucky to have called him my friend. May his memories always bring a smile to our faces, and what he was while he walked the earth by remembered fondly.

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  7. I'm So sorry but he will always be with you and he is loved just as you are loved!! God Bless

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  8. Michael, I am sorry for being tardy in offering my deepest and heartfelt sympathies. You painted a wonderful portrait of him with your words, I feel a loss for not having met him and known him. Yours can only be deeper for having known and loved him in life.

    As you love his memory and keep it alive, know he's never truly gone...just someplace else for the moment.

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  9. It is said that when you whisper the name of the dead, they become whole again. No man has truly died, unless he has been forgotten. I am sorry for your loss. You paid him a fine tribute. I am sure he knows your words.
    In fond regard, Tilda

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  10. Michael, I'm sorry it has taken so long to comment. I am slowly but surely catching up on posts...trying to at least. I am so very sorry for your loss. You wrote such a loving and beautiful tribute to him. I am sending you belated hugs and love, my friend.

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  11. An absolutely beautiful and heart-wrenching tribute to your beloved brother, Michael.

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