And then there were 4…

Oh he was an ass. The big brother that stole your money, broke your things, snuck in at all hours of the night. Stole the car and then wrecked it. Made fun of me endlessly. As kids I HATED what he got away with. But I loved him, he was my brother. I’m not sure if he even knew how much I envied him in those days. Every day at school there were whispers of “Did you hear what Byron did?” I was jealous of the things he “allegedly” got up to. He was one of the cool kids; him and his “band of brothers” that caused random mayhem in a town that wasn’t in the least bit ready. Whispers of broken windows, “misplaced” vehicles, noise disturbances all somehow linked back to him, though most couldn’t be proven. I remember when he ran over my bike – with a minivan; I was so pissed. When he would sneak into my window after everybody had left the house, and sneak out by the time I got home. Took me forever to figure out how mud got tracked into my room when I always left my shoes at the door.

We got grown, and I had my first kid. Byron immediately decided his name was “Junior” despite what was actually on his birth certificate. My son would hear his uncle call that name and start squealing. Starting when he was a toddler, Uncle Byron played this game called “surfing”. He would chase the kids until he caught them, then pin them to the ground and pretend to use them as surf boards. “C’mere Junior, let me surf on you!” I didn’t realize how much I missed hearing that.

We got grown-er and I decided to leave Minnesota, but I kept it a secret. My heart broke when, a few days before I was scheduled to leave, Byron had a stroke. I felt like a traitor, like I was abandoning him when he really needed me. I visited him in the hospital, and I told him I was sorry that I had to go right now, he looked at me and said “it’s all good, you need to do what you gotta do”.

My new “hometown” was good to me.  I got buried in my new life with new friends and another kid.  I got married and divorced.  Found a new life partner and had another kid. We caught up with each other when I made it back home, but that was not often;  I really am not a fan of Minnesota.  And then he moved away from Minnesota and I saw him even less.  But he would call. All the time. Out of the clear blue.  Sometimes to ask a favor.  Sometimes to ask me a question that Google was perfectly capable of answering. And a lot times it was just to talk about us as kids.  He was fond of telling me the story of how I asked him if he wanted me to read him a book. We must have been 5 and 7 at the time. He would tell me that he was impressed that I could read as well as I could. And that I really wanted to read HIM a story. That he admired how smart I was/am. 

The admiration was mutual. He told the world what it could do with itself. On a daily basis. He stared a stroke in the face and said “You will not beat me.” He told life that he would make it one way or the other. He told people to accept who he was or bounce. He viewed life with cynicism, sarcasm, and humour. I was always too afraid to be so blunt for fear of hurting feelings.

In recent years I learned what Byron already knew; we were opposites sides of the same coin.  We thought the same way.  I just kept mine in, and he let it all out. And that realization gave me the final push to start being real. I let my inner snark out.  Sarcasm became my new language.  He still thought I was one of the smartest people he knew. I think he was the boldest. He pulled no punches. And I’m sure he would appreciate it if I honored him by doing the same.

Byron: you pissed me off on more days than I can remember. You made life difficult when it didn’t have to be. You called me to ask ridiculous questions, and interrupted my day for no reason other than you wanted to. And you worried about me when I was hurt. And remembered every single birthday. And threatened people on my behalf behind my back. You made me smile when all I could think about was stress. You loved me from day one, in your own twisted way. And I love you. Forever and Always. Enjoy your well deserved peace.