In the Clearing Stands a Boxer...

 ...and a fighter by his trade

and he carries the reminders

of every glove that laid him down

or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame

"I am leaving, I am leaving" but he fighter still remains

(Paul Simon, The Boxer)

My brother Chris passed away 8 years ago this past January 5th, and to be honest, I was so wrapped up in work stuff that I really didn't take time to reflect on that difficult day in my life.  That one is on me, and stands as a reminder to keep the priorities of life in their rightful places.  I've written about Chris in prior postings over the years, so there will no doubt be some repetition coming, but so be it.

Whenever I hear the Simon and Garfunkel song "The Boxer" I think of Chris.  See above.  He actually was an amateur boxer, and I quoted the song in my eulogy of him back in 2017. 

Towards the end of his life, Chris was an enormous pain in my rear-end, as I was forever trying to solve one problem or another for him.  He was not well, mentally or physically, being a far cry from the boxer...and runner...he was in earlier years.  It was as if life kept putting more and more weight on him until finally, he simply gave out.  The irony isn't lost on me that this person who was genuinely strong for a good part of his life had a life ending in such personal and physical weakness.  

Some of the weight on him I honestly believe was made far worse when our mother passed away, although not in the way most may think.  In some respects, Chris always had something to prove to our mother, even though he never would have acknowledged that fact himself.  He did, by the way, more than prove whatever it* was, as for a good part of his life he worked hard, took care of himself, and adored his daughter Miranda.  He was successful by most definitions, starting with his honorable discharge from the United States Navy, through working as a postal carrier, graduation from college and eventual relocation back to Scranton.  In the end though, there's no purpose for the hunt if the hunter...or the prey...are no more.

Granted that there is more to this story than simply one of a reckoning between a child and parent that was never going to happen.  My brother had other quests in life that were never likely to result in anything fruitful.  On some level he knew this, and I think that some of his demons were simply a manifestation of this knowledge and his being powerless to really make a change.  That didn't stop a few folks close to him from really trying.

All the above noted, there was so much I admired about my brother.  He was naturally outgoing in a way that a thousand me in a thousand parallel universes could never, ever be.  He was a lover of cats who could also be very charming and extremely funny.  I will also note that he was one of the few folks I've ever met who could successfully thread the needle of being (a supposed) conservative Republican while also understanding the realities of something like racism.  What others in the family considered to be hypocrisy, I have come to appreciate as skill.  He was very well read, consuming biographies and poetry like some these days go through oh so many tweets.  

There was so much more that he could have done, and I often think about him, grieving for what he should have been.  I know that is a sort of fool's errand and likely selfish on my part, as who knows what could have been for any of us.  I also know though that in the quiet moments when the difficulties of present life aren't overwriting my brain, there is a kind of pain of not having him...in some better form...as being a part of my life.  In the end, there are so few in life that really understand us, so the loss of just one is a true tragedy.

Until we meet again brother.

(*) A relevant question is this:  What was "it" anyway?  I think we are all hard-wired to want our parents' approval on some level, to somehow have them, namely the people who in theory know us best, be proud of us.  In our case, that wasn't possible, at least not in a way that our mother could actually express.  This becomes a negative spiral that can consume you until you figure out how to simply stop the cycle.