Yesterday, I got the phone call we all were dreading but we all knew was coming. My oldest brother, John passed away yesterday. I started this entry after I got back from Virginia but had not posted it as I knew I would be finishing it before long.
Monday, October 22, 2008
Today I said goodbye to my oldest brother, John. John is suffering the end stages of mesothelioma, a cancer caused by asbestos exposure. I am fortunate to be able to see John one last time and as I leave the hospital, saying goodbye is the hardest thing I have had to do in a long time. But, John, always the optimist, looks at me, and seeing me crying says, "Don't do that. I'll get my strength back and I will be fine." John is such a fighter and although is body is giving up on him, his mind refuses to do that. I admire John for his strength during this fight. I know we didn't see him everyday, like Ann and the girls, but he sure had us fooled all this time. Every time we would talk to him on the phone and even when Si and I were there in July, John never once played the pity card. I never once heard him ask, "why me." I never really heard him complain, other than when he was in pain. And even then, he never really let on completely to the pain he was in. And, apparently, he was in pain a lot more than he let us know. But John always acted like he was not going to let this beat him and he never let on how bad things were. So, the fact that he looked so sick when we saw him in the hospital was quite a shock. I guess because of John's attitude and the way he kept it to himself, he had all of us believing that he, indeed, was going to beat this. Maybe that was John's way of protecting me. I think that is what big brothers do. Protect their little sisters.
Losing a brother or sister is difficult. Your siblings have known you longer than anyone other than your mom and dad. There are memories you share with your siblings that no one else knows about or understands. Because John was 9 years older than me, he could tell me stories about myself that I can't remember. And although there was that age difference, John and I were still very close.
I remember wrestling on the floor in the house in McLean. I remember trying to get John to wake up in the mornings -- wow, was that ever a challenge. I remember the time I was grounded and Mom and Dad were out of town, and John was in charge. He let me be "ungrounded" and didn't tell anyone. I remember many Friday nights in McLean, ordering onion with extra onion pizzas and sharing them. Only John and I understood the appeal of these pizzas. Snowball fights. Summers in New Albany, Indiana and Hamilton, OH. Snowstorm in Wheeling, WV on our way to Indiana for Christmas. Eating popcorn and playing Twister the Christmas John came to Germany. Baskin-Robbins. Lums after work (Zayre parking lot). John was one of the reasons I went to work at Zayre, and this is where I met my husband. John being my husband's best man at our wedding. John marrying my best friend. Weekends from college. That damn cat, YoYo. Scratching my eyes with my contacts; having to wear patches on both eyes and John, Gerald, and Ann moving stuff around on the table to mess with me. Bringing baby Kim to Indianapolis. The Howlett's 50 wedding anniversary. Fourth of July water balloon / squirt gun fight. Our surprise Christmas visitors. Surprising John in Virginia (turn about is fair play). 
Being here for Jennifer and Joanna's weddings.
Free rootbeer floats. There are so many memories."To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." ~Clara Ortega
My wise husband once told me that people never really die, as long as you have memories and you keep that person alive in your heart. So..........although you are gone from our sight, John, you will always be with us. In our hearts and in our minds.
Being here for Jennifer and Joanna's weddings.
Free rootbeer floats. There are so many memories."To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." ~Clara OrtegaMy wise husband once told me that people never really die, as long as you have memories and you keep that person alive in your heart. So..........although you are gone from our sight, John, you will always be with us. In our hearts and in our minds.
A very nice tribute to this very good man. Too bad you don't have pix of some of those old memories - sounds like they would be good ones. Of the pix that you did post, I was around for many of them - I may have even taken the one with the root beer floats! I am sorry for your loss. Life is like that, but it doesn't make it any easier. But, I haven't heard many of these stories about you and your brother. To know that you appreciated John so much - well, I am glad to see that, because I really liked the man and I will carry his memory with me.
ReplyDeleteI am adding this "comment" from Gerald, as I want it to be part of my blog......
ReplyDeleteToday we do not mourn that Brother John died, but we celebrate that he lived. This is especially significant knowing the issues he faced: as an infant, growing up and throughout his life. I am a kindred spirit, different from, but none the less similar to my Brother John.
“I am Gerald not Jack”, that was the catch phrase I used quite often as I grew up. Mostly to people we had not seen for a while. They remembered Jack from before and said I looked exactly like him. I took a government class my senior year at McLean High and the teacher almost fainted when she walked into the class stating that I “looked” like Jack. I was sitting in the exact same chair Jack sat in seven years earlier… When I started working for Zayre, we would confuse the customers. They had just seen “Jack” at the front of the store, but when they walked to the back of the store, they saw me. They would think we were the same person, possibly security following them. As you can see I grew up in the social shadow of my brother.
I spent the first 16 years of my life calling my brother Jack. I was working my first day at Zayre and picked up the intercom to page him. I asked that Jack Baker call my extension. I cannot convey properly what happened next on paper; nonetheless when the phone started to ring, it started to melt off the pole. It was “Jack” and the words I heard were “my name is John, do not call me Jack”.
Being seven years older than me, I did not really know John growing up (my memory of the first 8 years is poor). Typical siblings, we all fought with each other, for reasons I cannot remember or probably unimportant. We did become closer after my college years. We shared apartments, amusement parks, and other recreations. I was honored to be the best man at his wedding to Ann, a very kind and special person, which gave me the distinct title of “Shirt-tale Relative” to her family, the Howletts. Sometimes looking back, it is hard to tell where one family ended and the other began. I was also honored to be a weekly part of their family. I was especially honored to be present for the birth of their children (Kim, Megan and the pine trees) and their growing up (pine trees included). I was sad that employment opportunities took me away from Northern Virginia. Kathleen and I still look to returning someday, though it will no longer be the same.
John was a pretty laid back individual, but could still tout a temper at times (that Baker trait). I believe he was the first member and sitting president of the “Mutual Admiration Society” formed between the Bakers and the Howletts. Anything was fair game in the society, but it turned out to be more of a social club: movies, dining, bowling etc. Ask people about FingerHut (seat cover for car), Door Knobs, Ohio 4, Legend of Boggy Creek, Red Tent and other “B-” rated movies we went to see and you will know the demeanor of the club. John was more of a social person, willing to sit for hours talking about history, life and any other subject that came along. And it is no surprise that he was in good humor (mostly) even to the very end, putting on a happy face, joking with people, just taking it all in stride and optimistic that he would beat it once again.
I am thankful that we were all able to get out and see John while he knew we were there. I am also grateful that his family and friends were able to be by his side at the end, showing him compassion and love. We miss him, yet he will always be with us.
John Embrey Baker March 23, 1945 to October 31, 2008