The Encyclopedia of Me: B is for brothers

After a long hiatus, I’m beginning the Encyclopedia of Me series again.  The subject for this post is brothers.  Brothers have been a big part of my life; I have four of them.  A fifth brother, Donny, who would have been my third oldest brother, died when he was little.

I am the youngest of seven children.  Five of those children are boys.  (I’ll mention my sisters in a later post.)  Each one of my brothers is different from any other.  My oldest brother is in many ways the typical oldest child.  A type A personality, he could often be bossy when we were growing up.  Frankly I didn’t like him very much for most of my childhood.  He was in to sports, especially football, and played on our local high school team until a knee injury put him out of commission for good.  After that incident, he and my second oldest brother, who were often at odds and could easily get into a fight with each other, seemed to put aside their differences.  He was the first one in our family to marry, and I still remember how much that changed our family in a good way because we gained a new family member in my sister-in-law.  Then he and my sister-in-law began to make a family of their own, ending up with six children of their own.  Two of them are now married and one of those two now has a baby, making my brother a grandpa.  I think my oldest brother and I have largely made peace with each other after quite a long period of sometimes strained relations.  Something that I think we have now which was lacking for so long was mutual respect.

My second oldest brother also played football in high school, but I remember him as one who was more interested in the natural world.  He loved fishing, and he also enjoyed catching butterflies and moths and at one time had a pretty good collection of different bugs, butterflies, and moths pinned onto a big, white pinning board.  He was the one who introduced us to butterfly nets and the fun of chasing and catching butterflies, and taught us how to mount them.  He was always interested in bees and has cared for his own bee hives for several years.  He was the one who bought a purebred Irish setter, appropriately named Belle, and brought her into our family.  She wasn’t the only dog we had when I was growing up, but she will always be my favorite.  For as long as I’ve known him, my second oldest brother has been apt to worry about financial matters.  I think I would have been better off if I had a measure of his caution and conservative attitude toward money!  A few years after my oldest brother married, he married as well.  Interestingly, his wife and my oldest brother’s wife were good friends who knew each other long before they met either brother.  He has three children now, and the oldest recently became engaged to be married.

The third oldest brother, like the first two, was athletic in high school and at one time was co-captain of the football team.  He was not someone to mess with and I well remember the time when I was in junior high (sometimes called middle school) and two of my classmates decided to get into a fight in the mens’ locker room.  My brother happened to come in during the fight and according to accounts from others who were witnesses to the event (unfortunately I wasn’t one of them), he picked up both combatants by the scruff of their necks and proceeded to break up the fight by knocking their heads together.  At least that was the way it was told to me.  He went on to become an accountant and has progressed to senior administrative positions at the nearby university.  He was the one who got me my first job, working with him at a paint store.  He also gave me a job at the university which enabled me to pay for my undergraduate education, and he allowed me to ride to and from the university with him each day, thus enabling me to save room and board by living at home.  More than that, he paid for countless lunches, dinners, and more.  He hardly blinked an eyelash when I wrecked his car one time.

My fourth oldest brother is the one I am closest to, both in age and relationship.  He is a twin; his twin is one of my older sisters.  He and I shared a room for most of our growing up years and unlike my sisters, who seemed to always have something to fight about, we rarely argued or fought with one another.  We had some real humdinger fights, though.  He was always more athletic than me and although I think he’d disagree with me about this, I always thought he was more popular with others than I ever was.  When I was about five or six years old, we would be trying to get to sleep at night, him on the bottom bunk bed and me and the top one, and he would enjoy making scary noises to scare the heck out of me.  I was the biggest chicken in the world, afraid of anything and everything, especially in the dark.  He and I enjoyed various hobbies, including breeding guppies and other fish.  At one time we had three or four aquariums operating throughout our bedroom in the basement of the house we were living in. We spent a lot of time playing outdoors and down by the river near our house.

Much more could be written about growing up with four brothers, but I think this will suffice for now.  I’ve purposely left them unnamed, but I love each and every one of them for who they are and for the experiences we’ve had together over the years.

Look who’s 40

Today my brother, Dan, and sister, Debbie, who are twins, turn 40 years old. Amazing. I am the youngest of seven children (five boys and two girls; an eighth child, Donny, died when he was 18 months old). Dan and Debbie are the next youngest siblings. When we were kids, we tended to play games together and were perhaps closer to one another than we were to older brothers and my older sister. Individually and together, we have gone through a lot over the years.

Partly in celebration of their birthday, Dan and Debbie are going on special trips soon. I’m a bit jealous ;-) because Debbie is going to Florida for a week, and Dan is going to New Zealand for two weeks to visit with my sister, Becky, and her family.

Now tomorrow is another family birthday, this time, for my brother, Jeff. I wish Debbie, Dan, and Jeff well on their special days.

Death is part of life

In the past few months, there have been a number of deaths among extended family or friends. While in most cases it was expected, the death of someone you love is hard. Michele’s Uncle Donny died while only in his 50s, of cancer. My Uncle John came really close to death but thankfully is recovering. Someone I’ve known all my life as Aunt Lona, although not really my aunt but a distant relative by marriage, also died. Aunt Lona was in her 80s. Although I last saw her a very long time ago, I can still picture Aunt Lona, with her striking white hair, her piercing eyes, and her tanned face with its prominent cheekbones (she was part Native American). Staying at her house was an adventure in part because she lived in one of my favorite places in the world (Montana) near the entrance to Glacier National Park. I remember us reading the Kalispell, Montana newspaper to find stories about grizzly bears (I think my parents even subscribed to the newspaper for a while). In my mind’s eye she always wore an apron and was always busy about the kitchen.

Late last night my mother called us to tell us that a close friend, also in her 80s and someone whom I’ve known since I was a little kid, had died just a few hours before. Dorothy and her sister, Betty, never married and lived together all their lives. They were like aunts to us kids and they doted on us (and many others). I have so many happy memories of visiting them or staying at their house. Dorothy always wore dresses, while Betty prefered blouses and skirts. When talking about them with others who hadn’t met them yet, we sometimes referred to them as Dorothy Dress and Betty Blouse as a way of telling them apart. Dorothy and Betty lived to serve others. Dorothy did the cleaning while Betty took care of the cooking. They cared for countless visitors, never complaining, always happy to serve. Their house was a haven of good food, candies, toys for the kids, and other treats. I am very sad about her death but at the same time, glad that she is at rest, forever free from any more pain or suffering in her body, finally able to enjoy her heavenly reward. I wonder how her sister, Betty, will fare.

As I fell asleep last night, aside from the grief I felt at the news, the thought that was running through my mind was that death is part of life. We all have to face death. Those who put their faith in Jesus Christ have the promise of eternal life; death has no power over them any more. I was thinking, too, of Jesus’s promise that He has prepared a place for us with Him. “I am going there to prepare a place for you,” that’s what he told His disciples (John 14:2-4). I am comforted by this assurance. Nearly every day I think of my father, who died unexpectedly almost four years ago, as well as my maternal grandparents, all of whom are in their places that have been prepared for them, enjoying His presence.

Guys day out with Keegan

Keegan and I are at home by ourselves this weekend because Michele and the younger kids went with her family to her uncle’s funeral. Uncle Donny died last week from an unknown form of cancer. I wish we could have gone to the funeral but Keegan had a test at school yesterday morning and I couldn’t take another day off of work on Friday to be able to go. Yesterday was a guys day out for the two of us. We had a lot of fun. Yesterday afternoon we drove downtown to the big Apple store on North Michigan Avenue in Chicago. I weakened my resolve and allowed Keegan to buy a Star Wars game, which he is currently deeply engrossed in playing on our iMac downstairs. After that we had supper at Heaven on Seven, a Louisiana/Cajun eatery that I like. Keegan was dubious about going (he’s not really fond of trying new foods) but he ended up liking it a lot. After that we bought tickets to see Wallace & Gromit and the Curse of the Were-Rabbit. It wasn’t showing until about an hour later so we killed time by walking down to the Borders next door to the historic Water Tower. After we saw the movie we both agreed that it was definitely worth watching and that we really had a good laugh. I like the movie a lot except that it seems to be taking the Shrek approach to kid’s movies by slyly incorporating many adult-themed jokes here and there. I don’t remember previous movies doing that so much. It was late by the time we got home but we had had a really fun time together. I am glad we were able to do this — we don’t often get time to spend together, just the two of us. It seems like lately we have been in constant conflict with each other. Spending time together helps us reconnect.

Some family photos

My brother, Dan, digitized many family photos a while ago. I’ve chosen a few to show here.

Below is a photo of all of my family members on the afternoon of our wedding in January 2000, including my six brothers and sisters and almost all of my nieces and nephews and one of my cousins. This is the last photo taken that includes all of my siblings and parents. My sister, Becky, is married and lives in New Zealand, so it is very unusual to have her in a recent family photo. And then my father died almost exactly two years after this photo was taken.

First row from left to right: Dan (brother), Ben (nephew), Keegan (son), Pelle (nephew), and Nils (nephew); Second row: Lars (nephew), my mother with Kerstin (niece) in her lap, my father with Bjorn (nephew) in his lap, and Sam (nephew from New Zealand). Third row: Debbie (sister), Bradley (cousin), Linda (sister-in-law), Jeff (brother), Jocelyn (niece), Tim (brother), Petra (sister-in-law), Kevin (brother), Britta (niece), me, Michele, Becky (sister from New Zealand).

Here is a photo of my mother and father on their wedding day in September 1958:

This photo is of Grandma McCallum, my mother’s mother. I was really close to her and miss her even to this day. This is the last photo taken of her not long before her death in October 1982. The baby in the stroller is Nils, my oldest nephew:

Below is a late photo of Grandpa and Grandma McCallum, the only grandparents I ever knew (my paternal grandparents both died before I was old enough to remember them):

I like this photo of all of us kids (except Donny, my parents’ third child, who died of unknown causes at 18 months of age). Left to right: Dan (#6 and twin to Debbie), Kevin (#1), me (#8) in Kevin’s lap, Tim (#2) with Debbie (#7 and twin to Dan) on his lap, Jeff (#4), and Becky (#5). At this point we still lived in Nebraska:

My Kiwi brother-in-law, Martin (top), along with some friends, pretending to do a Maori war dance called the “haka,” on a beautiful beach on the North Island:

Finally, here I am for my third birthday:

This world is not our home

The other day, when Michele and I were on our way to a doctor’s visit for Brinley, we listened to a radio program on which Anne Graham Lotz was speaking. It was a recording of her speaking at the funeral of a little girl who had died when only six months old. She spoke about how this earth is not our home, our home has been prepared for us in heaven. Something about this hit me forcibly, reminding me especially of my father’s death. I cried so hard that it was hard to see where I was driving. Jesus said that He has prepared a place for each one of us. That is where my grandparents are, my brother Donny, and now my father, in the special place that has been prepared for them. Lotz’s speech reminded me to see things in a different light. We should expect sorrow or trouble or whatever here in this life; our life to be with Jesus in heaven is our true home. Last night, the women in Michele’s Bible study had a shower for her and Brinley — what nice people! They are also taking turns to provide us with a meal every night this week, which is a real lifesaver. Keegan’s excited about the fact that he has the next two days off from school, and hopes he gets to stay over at his best friend David’s house tonight. He has grown up so much these last few months. Where does the time go?