Strange PulseI'm Susan. 34, married for 16 years, with three kids. A Mormon housewife into doom metal. And this is my blog.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005Things my brother has missed out on since he died.My oldest brother was 13 when I was born. He was what they referred to at the time as "incorrigble." Around the time my parents were bringing me home from the hospital, he was sent to live in a foster home. I didn't know any of this until his funeral, when a black man I'd never seen before delivered his eulogy. I remember thinking, Who is this guy? And how does he know my brother better than I do? Well it turns out he was my brother's foster dad. He was a lawyer. And he gave a very nice eulogy. (I was disappointed 7 months later when we buried my sister and no eulogy was given. If I'd known my parents hadn't planned for one, I would've given one myself.) Some time after my brother died, my mom heard on the radio that my brother's foster dad was arrested for molesting some boys. She told me and my oldest sister about it and asked my sister if she knew anything it. My sister said no, but she remembered that her first husband never liked my brother's foster dad. Because he was gay. I find it ironic that her first husband is the worst person I've ever personally known, on the bad-to-evil scale. A child molester, a wife-beater, and a rapist. But that's another story. My brother died of cancer shortly after his 34th birthday, when I was 21. My oldest son was about 1, and I was pregnant with my daughter. Usually if I think about my brother nowadays (I'm 35 now), it's because I've encountered something that makes me think, "Darryl would've loved this." Things my brother has missed out on since he died. 1. The Internet. He would've loved the Internet. Chat rooms. Instant messaging. Email. Web forums. Myspace. Not sure if he would've cared about blogs. But he would've loved the free, easy access to porn. He died in 1990, way before the Internet. And just as computers were starting to take off. He had a computer and loved it. He'd dial up local BBS's and download files. Probably posted messages. I don't remember. I do remember going over to his apartment to visit him when he had cancer, and he offered to show me a pornographic picture he'd downloaded from a BBS. Thanks, no, that's ok. (He also offered me some pot but that, too, I had to decline.) I bet the quality of that image file would be seriously laughable by today's standards. 2. Stoner Rock. The only thing he and I had in common really was music. It was just about the only thing we ever talked about. When I was small, he'd come over with some albums to listen to them on my parents' nice stereo. I remember Pink Floyd. Lying on the living room carpet under the piano, next to the stereo speakers, listening to "Hey You." In high school, I borrowed his Megadeth records. I was so impressed when he told me he'd seen the Dead Kennedys. When I discovered stoner rock a few years ago, I just kept thinking, Darryl would've loved this. Early Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Unida, Players Club, and doom metal too. High on Fire, even Electric Wizard and Yob, maybe. 3. MP3's. Darryl would've loved an iPod. And iTunes. And burning cds. Now for some serious stuff. 4. Seeing his daughter grow up. His daughter was 4 years old when he died. Old enough to just barely remember him. I always wondered if maybe her earliest memory would be her father dying, but I've never asked her. She's about 19 now? I haven't really seen her for a couple years. Last I heard, she was trying to become a model. I think maybe she went to some kind of tech or business school but I can't remember. She's probably got an email address, I should find out. 5. Getting to know his estranged children. Darryl had--well, actually, I don't know how many kids he had. He got at least one girl pregnant as a teen, I think possibly two. I know for sure of one. I remember being small, so little I was looking at everyone from behind a dining room chair, when he brought the girl and the baby over. I couldn't remember how I knew, but I knew the baby was his. I asked my mom about it years ago and she said the girl kept calling her "Grandma." He got married when I was a kid and had two boys. They split up though and I don't think he ever really saw his sons, but I guess I wouldn't know if he did. It just seems like when they showed up at his funeral it was the first time in a long time they'd seen anyone in the family. Maybe they had moved out of state, I don't know. He later had a girlfriend and they had a daughter together. He didn't divorce his first wife until just before he died. She came through with a divorce for him so that he could marry his girlfriend, which he did while in the hospital. Darryl himself was estranged from his real father. My mother was married very young and had three kids, then married my dad and had three more, which explains the age gap between the three older kids in my family and the three younger (I'm the middle child of the younger set). When he was really sick, he asked my mom to contact his real dad. He wanted to talk to him before he died. When my mom tracked his father down on the phone, his father refused to speak to him. I guess he just couldn't deal with it. A short while later, the baby I remember Darryl bringing over when I was small called my mom. She was 14, and wanted to meet her real dad. My mom had to tell her that Darryl had cancer and was too ill to speak to her. She came to Darryl's funeral. I didn't talk to her. I don't know her name. posted @ 06:35 PM PDT [link] Monday, June 13, 2005Wonder.Do you ever lie in a big grassy field and wonder how many blades of grass there are, in the field? In the world? And how many spiders there are hidden in that grass? When you're in a large group of people, do you ever look around and wonder what they're all thinking about at that exact moment? When you're going to sleep at night, do you ever wonder how many people in the whole world at that very moment are in excruciating pain? Or dying? Or giving birth? Or making love? Do you ever wonder when you're in a big open space how many radiowaves are hitting your body? And what those radiowaves are transmitting? Could you be getting bombarded with Styx...or Journey? Rush Limbaugh? Do you ever pass strangers on the street, in a store, at the bank, and wonder about their lives? Is their spouse cheating on them? Were they abused or molested as a child? Have they lost a loved one? Have they seen the new Star Wars? Do you ever wonder whether a blind person who lives alone turns on the lights after it gets dark? Do you ever get up in the morning and wonder what the day has in store? I do. Sometimes. posted @ 07:30 PM PDT [link] |
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