The Love Flowing Freely

 I've wavered on writing about the death of my brother, and I've decided to go ahead with it.  My brother Barry died on Tuesday morning.  He was 66 and recently manifested a rare condition called vasculitis.  There are many different kinds of vasculitis, but he got a really bad kind that kills you pretty quickly.  Over the course of 4 to 5 weeks, while doctors were trying to figure out what was wrong with him, his condition got worse and worse and he ended up in the hospital 2 weeks ago.  By the time the doctors had a diagnosis, there was no hope for my brother's recovery.  We know that now, and during his hospital stay there were ups and downs, but the night before he died, we were sure that he was on his way home later this week. Word of his death on Tuesday morning shocked us all.

This is a sad and horrible story and writing it down doesn't change anything.  On the other hand, writing about Barry lets me document that our family has suffered a horrible loss that should not be ignored or rushed past. Blogging about Bar also lets the people I love know that something tough has happened and that our family appreciates your kind thoughts at this time.

Rosalyn, Quinn, Peter and I had a phone call yesterday and shared some memories of Uncle Barry.  Our memories were all quite funny because he was a hilarious person who loved to see the humor in situations.  Whenever he walked in to the house to see me when I visited Georgia, he would shout out, "Sistah!" Every time. Then everyone would get big hugs.  He was easy to be with, easy to love.

When we were kids he was always around for a ride on the handlebars of his bike, help with homework, sharing some fine music or some nutty antics. From an early age, he was a neat freak and developed into the type of person who cleans his cleaning supplies. After he vacuumed, he took apart the vacuum cleaner to dust out all parts of its interior. 

He was a runner, who came to running late-ish but made up for lost time.  He always placed in his age group.  I ran 2 races with him a few years ago.  Both times, he ran back after finishing and accompanied me in.  He wanted me to run a race with him this summer, but I passed up the chance.  He signed me up anyway because he wanted to gift me the race tee-shirt. 

He was with his wife Beth for 41 years.  They were always together.  Barry and Beth.  Beth and Barry.  2 amazing characters who brought so much sweet joy into our lives. And big perk for me --- they were both regular blog readers!

Because of Covid, no one could be with Barry while he was in the hospital.  He seemed to know that things were going downhill, and expressed his love and last wishes to all family members, but we kept thinking he was just being negative.  Seriously, I had no clue that he wasn't coming home.  

He texted to my sister that he wanted no funeral, no obituary, no memorial.  But somewhere down the line, he would like us all to have a party in B and B's backyard.  He wrote that he wanted it to just be fun.  "No haters.  Only love and may it flow freely."

I'm glad I wrote this blog entry.  My brother deserves a little memorial, though he didn't want one.  He was a good man, a sweet uncle and a marvelous brother.  We miss him dearly.