“A Day in the Life:” What difference does one life make?
I lost my youngest brother this summer. His passing was unexpected, and its causes are unknown.
The loss of him and the knowledge that this mystery will never be unraveled have almost crushed me. His absence, more like a vanishing, and the inordinate frustration of not knowing why constituting a weight, like higher g-forces on a roller coaster during acceleration or sharp turns.
I miss countless things about him. His endearing habit of calling me “Little Sister,” in reference to my height, not my age. His stubbornness, unshaking loyalty, and amazing gift for connecting with all variety of people. His total lack of tolerance for harassment or mistreatment of others because of race, gender, or pretty much anything. His ability to love with his entire being.
My brother was courageous. He spent too many years addicted to opioids, one of millions in the United States affected by overprescribing that class of drugs. But with remarkable intrepidness, he made the decision to kick the drugs without going through treatment.
He did not do so foolishly. He researched, consulted health professionals, and built a support team to see him through this difficult journey. I was lucky enough to be part of that support team, as were his dearest friends. He gathered all his strength and determination, fueled by his goal. As he explained: “I’m seeking a better way to live my life each day. I fully expect this to be a constructive, positive (not easy) improvement for myself and the people I care for.”
In no way do I recommend that others try my brother’s approach to detoxing. And yet I applaud him and was thrilled by his success. Without opioids, he began to communicate with more clarity. He read things of substance and shared what he learned. He offered wise and valuable insights. In the time between his momentous decision to kick the drugs and his passing, our relationship was as rich and full as anyone could hope for. I have never been more proud of him.
My brother once told me an amazing story that illustrates his gift for connecting. It’s a story that could not be more relevant to now. Heading into a national election, we find that different political leanings have wreaked havoc. Fraying friendships and family ties alike. Reducing conversations to the superficial because we are afraid, even unable, to talk about those differences.
In recounting this story, I’m going to be politically neutral. Because I don’t want a difference to get in the way of the story. And because it’s an important story either way.
A neighbor invited my brother over one day for a beer. As he approached the house, he found his friend working in the garage. He also saw a giant sign supporting a candidate he did not support.
Did he ignore it? Of course not!
He accepted the beer and asked his friend if he knew certain things upon which he would be basing his vote. The friend listened. Not only had he not known what my brother told him, but he wondered aloud why not. He called his wife to come out and listen and asked my brother to repeat what he had said and tell her how he learned it.
My brother had this ability to engage people with differing opinions because he treated them with respect. Shortly after George Floyd was murdered in Minneapolis, he texted me that the best thing we could possibly do in the face of this would be to realize that we’re all in this together. He wanted that for us and our country, and I think he would be so proud of us if we followed his lead and made it our goal to connect with people despite differences.
Connecting despite differences is behavior that’s happening all over. In every state. In phone calls, over coffee at kitchen tables, and while sipping drinks on porches as the sun goes down.
Modeling my brother, I’ve begun to go deeper in conversations with family and friends. More well-known folks than I are doing the same. For example, activist/actress Ashley Judd. Check out her Instagram, where she explains: “My beloved Pop and I are chasms apart politically. … And yet, in this conversation…we visited about our joyful commitment never to allow anything to come between us…” Where she gives us the opportunity to listen in.
I would love to see the practice of connecting despite differences go viral!
At my brother’s Celebration of Life, it was my honor to deliver his eulogy. In my inherited role as family matriarch, I was positioned to memorialize him from day one. I strove to remember him as both very human and very beloved.
Because, as I explained to gathered family and friends, the pain of the unexpected loss we were all suffering can be the other side of the coin called “family”—if we seize the opportunity. Despite our differences, rifts in our relationships, or atrophying of our connections due to nothing more than life getting in the way of doing the work, we can commit to change. To respect our differences, repair our rifts, and renew our connections. To value the blessing of this extended family we’ve all been given.
I then asked others to consider sharing their remembrances. From those testimonials I received an invaluable gift. As one after another shared, I heard stories both familiar and new. My knowledge of my brother deepened as I learned how others saw him and loved him. Magically, it was as if we were all musicians riffing on “family.”
I was reminded that it is through shared stories that we keep those we love alive.
A little later that day, I received this text from one of my sisters-in-law: “I miss his texts terribly. What an amazing individual he was!!!”
Her message reminded me of yet another thing I will miss about my brother. Something, as is unfortunately so often the case, that I failed to fully appreciate when he was alive.
With each step he took to distance himself from drugs, until the time he left us, his texts and phone calls became richer. Increasingly full of humor, snippets of language he had learned while serving overseas, witty references to music, recollections of family and friends, inspiration to connect, and substance.
He was a storyteller. He mattered. His life mattered. I am so fortunate to call him my brother.
Album includes Grammy-winning performance by Jeff Beck of “A Day in the Life,”
written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Jeff Beck was my brother’s favorite musician.
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