B is for Bruce, part II

note: this post developed from Creative Writing. The prompt given was 'catalog', the thesaurus entry reads: (noun)

• a series of names or words, printed or written down;
• list, register, roll, roster, schedule. see also: remember
• (verb) to register in or as if in a book;

book, enroll, inscribe, list, set down. see remember:

• Remember:to renew an image or thought in the mind:
• bethink, mind, recall, recollect
• reminisce, retain, revive, think.
• IDIOM: to bring to mind.
• to care enough to keep in mind

My brother Bruce was seven years sober when he died last July. He was aided in his sobriety by many friends/co-addicts at the Twin Lakes Alano Society in Brooklyn Park, MN.

Bruce was on the governing board and very active. When he died, we actually held two memorials- one in the afternoon for family, friends and relatives; and one that evening at Twin Lakes- well attended by about 100-150 of Bruce's bowling and golfing team mates, former classmates and co-workers, a cousins that live out that way, and many, many friends from Twin Lakes and Minneapolis Inter-group. When the chaplin at Twin Lakes had asked earlier in the week if anyone would like to share their memories of Bruce. More than 15 people indicated they would like to do so.

Twin Lakes is a small AA community, with a core group of about 30 people. They have their own building-a converted elementary school. Being such a small group, the frequently hold events to raise funds for repairs and to pay utilities. On Saturday May 17th, I attended one of these events, a garage/rummage sale. As soon as I was noticed, four of my brothers best friends (now they are also my friends) came up to me and gave me hugs and asked after myself and my father--especially about my Dad- they are concerned for his health, well-being, and sobriety--like them he is a 'recovering alcoholic' with more than 30 years sobriety.

It was good to see them, but very hard and emotional at the same time. I was repeatedly asked how I liked the Saturn, which is actually in my Dad's possession right now. It was a beautiful day, and I dutifully wandered amongst the clothing racks and tables before the area that always gets most of my attention at any sale: the books and other media! In the past they have always had a good selection of books and used music, and this time was no exception.... I found a couple of cassettes (car stereo) and a boxed set of Erma Bombeck humor paperbacks. I was almost done when I spotted it. And it immediately brought tears to my eyes.

"It" is a hardback copy of Listen to the Warm, by Rod McKuen. It is a collection (the second published) of Rod McKuen's poems/lyrics. When I was in Junior High, and Bruce was in the Navy, he sent me a copy of this book--which I have long since lost. That I found a copy at this time and this location still brings tears to my eyes. I don't know how that book got to the sale- who donated it or what. But I am sure Bruce had a hand in it being there for me to find!! Thank you again, Bruce, for this book!

(from page 56--titled Thirty-six)
grrr-someday I will figure out how to indent when using blogger the italic lines are indented in original form-grrr

I live alone.
It hasn’t always been that way.
It’s nice sometimes
to open up the heart a little
and let some hurt come in.
It proves you’re still alive.

I’m not sure what it means.
Why we cannot shake the old loves from our minds.
It must be that we build on memory
and make them more than what they were.
And is the manufacture
just a safe device for closing up the wall?

I do remember.
The only fuzzy circumstance
is sometimes where-and-how.
Why, I know.

It happens just because we need
to want and to be wanted too,
when love is here or gone
to lie down in the darkness
and listen to the warm.

About the death of my brother, Bruce--sure to be the first of many postings

Bruce played cards-(500) with a group of my Dad's friends once a month. He started as a substitute player, and then became a pretty much a regular. The group meets at various places for brunch, and then goes to someones house to play. They were going to play on July 14th, so my Dad called Bruce several times, and getting no answer, left messages for him on the answering machine. It was really not like Bruce to not return phone calls, so my Dad started to get worried. He called the Twin Lakes Alano Society where Bruce attended meetings. He talked with one of Bruce's friend Harlen (Harley), who had not seen Bruce recently and said he would ask some others if they had seen/heard from Bruce lately. Please keep in mind, this is summer--many people travel, take time off, etc. It was quite likely one person to not have seen my brother, and think that someone else had.

After asking around, it became apparent to Harley, and Bill T., that no one had seen Bruce since the end of June, when several members were at his house to help him paint--he was preparing to sell the place. Harley and Bill decided to do a "health and welfare check". Unfortunately, they found Bruce dead. He was sitting up in his recliner, with head back, as though he went to sleep and never woke. My Dad got a call from the Brooklyn Park Police at around 11:30, Friday, July 13th, to inform him his son was dead... Bruce was 52. My Dad called me at 6:30 the next morning to inform me. I was mad, and still am ticked with him--why did he wait until morning. "Well, I knew I wouldn't sleep, and didn't want to disturb yours..." sheesh!

Anyhow, Bruce's body was 'significantly decomposed.' The Medical Examiner had to use fingerprints for a positive identification. It is now thought he died around 7/1; although he put 7/13/07 on the death certificates. And I used that date on the funeral brochures I made up--because at that time, we didn't know the actual day-- and to our minds, he lived until my Dad got the phone call.

Bruce had several health problems. When he was 40, he had double coronary bypass and aortic valve replacement surgery. He always struggled with high cholesterol. Although he was successful in his battle against drugs and alcohol, he was never able to completely stop smoking. A few years ago he had a blockage in ah, I think it was a groin region artery if memory serves (which it may not!). Then last September, he was at work one day and he leaned over to pick up a pencil from the floor, and woke up in the emergency room at a local hospital. Tests showed he had 90 percent blockage in one of his carotid (neck) arteries. He had surgery to open and insert a stent there.

He had also was experiencing progressing muscular weakness in his thighs/legs. He had a lot of tests, and a biopsy was done on muscle tissue from one thigh early last Spring. No cause was found. The doctor called it 'Idiopathic Myopia'--a catch-all phrase which basically means 'muscular loss due to unknown origins.

On Sunday, July 15th, the Old Testament reading at church was from Leviticus 18:1-5, 19:9-18 (ESV). My attention was taken by verses 19:9-10: When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to the edges, neither shall you gather the gleanings after you harvest. And you shall not strip you vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard. You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner. I am the Lord your God. I wrote in the margins of the bulletin (a habit from when I had to take sermon notes for Confirmation class, many years ago): When God reaps, he does not strip us bare- he leaves gleanings for us-- thoughts and memories of our loved one. He leaves gleanings for the poor, and those who are still sojourning--we are those who still travel this weary world. He as 'reaped' Bruce, and taken him home. Our memories of our son, brother and friend- are the gleanings.