Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Thanks Brother

Had a death in the family. My wife's only brother. I'm not sure why I qualify him that way but it seems the natural thing to say. Chuck was a good guy and I liked him because he seemed to like me. He wasn't a saint by any means, and lived a very hard life for the first half but he got pretty close to being right for the second half. So, I give him his due and thank him for the time he spent here and what he did in that time. I have always had a problem with grief, the problem being that my father beat the whole grief thing outta me as a child. Good training for my years as a soldier but piss poor for my years as a human being, father and husband. People cry and I get confused. Why do they cry, tears will change nothing, but that doesn't seem to stop them. I think it brings a release, a release from the pain. I used to wonder where my release was, but I think I have been given a gift of sorts. When they cry they need someone to watch over them, to do the laundry and shopping and cooking and make the calls they hate to make, I am that someone. So I'll hug them and bring them food and nod when they weep because that's what I do. I've got your back. So I'll grieve in my own way and say, thanks Chuck, you were a good brother in law, I am truly glad to have known you. Now I have to run to the commissary buts it ok because dinner will be one of my best recipes.


  1. Sorry to find that it is death that brought you to write something here. I think even as a kid I thought that crying was a sign of weakness and a useless thing to do. I've pondered this a lot in the last year, wondering if it was because I didn't feel anything or because I didn't feel the need to express it. I offer this: Just be thankful that after forty plus years on this earth you don't get inexplicably zapped with a sh**load of new and intense female hormones that end up totally changing the way you deal with things.

    I think it is not a bad thing you are the way you are, just as long as you aren't numb. Been there, done that.

  2. I'm not sure what it is, numb, detached or absence. But ultimately, I feel like something is missing in me, a mechanism everyone else seems to have, something that triggers in these sorts of situations. It used to bother me allot when I was young but now I realize my own utility because of my emotional handicap as it were. I used to jokingly tell women, if you want an evening of laughter, I'm not your man, but if your dog is trapped in a burning house, I'm the guy you want around.