My oldest surviving brother died yesterday

Tuesday, at about 3:00PM. It was a bit sudden, and shocking, if not exactly surprising. He had not been in great health for quite some time, and was a heavy smoker to the end, even after heart bypass surgery several years ago.

We were able to gather most of the family at the hospital, and I was there when, or shortly after he died. I'm not actually sure, but I had seen him just Saturday, so I'm OK with that.
He is survived by his three adult children. They had been estranged from him for about 10 years due to a difficult divorce situation, but thankfully, all had been re-connecting with him over the last few years. I feel the worst for the youngest. He actively sought out his father after those difficult times and was really getting closer to him. The irony is, of course, that he is a two time Iraq war vet, who returns to re-unite with his father, only to have him taken by illness and infirmity. I believe he did, however, learn that there are usually more than one side to any problem in relationships. Hopefully he carries that lesson with him for the rest of his life.

For my part, I never knew him as well as either of us would have liked. He was off in Vietnam while I was in High School, and I left for the service shortly after he was discharged. I would not return home to the State of Washinton until 35 years later. I had a short year to talk to him, and it wasn't enough. My other brother thought I might regret it if I hadn't said a final goodbye in the hospital room yesterday. My real regret is that I really never said a decent hello to him.

My brother was, in many ways, and for many years a real SOB. As the youngest of the brood, I always assumed I got the brunt of his teenaged angst and rage. But he was also capable of boundless generosity when one of his family, siblings, and/or relatives was in need. As always, we will eulogize the best of him, and hold the worst of him in the dimmer places of our memory.

My brother was a destructive drinker through most of his twenties, but was justifiably proud that he never took a drink for the 31 years after he quit. Unfortunately, he did not necessarily follow that up with other more healthful life decisions and was taken from us at the not so ripe age of 60.

We, as a family, have shed some tears, and probably more will come. As I have aged I have come to realize that my family is perhaps not quite as diverse as I used to think. We were able to come together and even start rational discussions about the funeral plans and such. As a Vietnam Veteran, his final resting place will be Tahoma National Cemetary in Kent.

My other brother, my sister, and I have let the three children make the decisions so far, but have of course extended our help as needed. We are in agreement that the immediate family needs to make the important decisions, and shouldn't be beholden to the older generation.

I'm not much for religion or the afterlife. However, when I left that room, I could only say, "Goodbye, bro. See you on the other side."