Brother

Brother. That one word just can't come close to describing a relationship, a bond, a friendship beginning at birth and lasting a lifetime. When I think of my brother and the relationship we've shared for the past 29 years so much comes to mind. I was lucky because he came first so when I was born I already had a friend. He was my very first friend. A friend who taught me how to share, how to compromise, how to think of someone other than myself. Throughout childhood he was my best friend. He made up games which also meant he got to change the rules partway through if he was losing. There was Citrus Ball, Security Guard, obstacle courses, and barefoot racing. There was climbing trees and pushing each other's boundaries, making each other tougher and braver. He taught me the meaning of words. He showed me how to swim. He taught me how to be an older sibling when Thomas was born. He took care of my problems when I was being bullied or being treated unfairly. There was nothing my big brother couldn't do.

Man, he was cute!

Jeremy, Thomas, mom, and me.

Then from best friend to lifelong friend. There were discussions on politics, the meaning of life, life after death, and music. He was always stretching me to think differently, to think outside the box. There were lots of car rides with Bob Dylan playing so loudly, I thought the harmonica would pierce my skull. At every race he was on the sideline cheering me on. I would always hear his voice and felt comfort in it. I will always remember turning the last corner at the Prairie Fire half marathon and hearing him cheering me on over the voices of all the other spectators lining the road. He would finish the race and then find the perfect spot to cheer the rest of us on. He always made running look effortless with his long, loping stride. During a race I could see him at the start and then after the first mile he would slowly pull away until he was out of sight. It always drove our high school coach crazy that Jeremy wouldn't take out faster, but that was just how he ran. It is how he did most things, in his own time and in his own way. And he always made it look easy. He has always been a huge reader and in his off time he was typically found reading. Sometimes he would save articles for me to read. If I asked him his opinion on a topic I was quickly overwhelmed with scholarly articles on the topic, filling up my email's inbox. I would be a totally different person without him.



What gets me the most choked up is thinking of him as an uncle. The love he has for Carter and Elise shows through in everything he does. On days when he wasn't feeling that great, Carter could always elicit a smile. He would be on the floor building train tracks, on the couch reading stories, standing up rocking Elise. If it was something for Carter, he was always there. The week after Christmas I needed to go grocery shopping and Carter didn't want to go. He asked if he could go to Uncie J's house instead. I called Jeremy and he excitedly said that would be so much fun. I dropped Carter off with his train set which he insisted on taking with him so he could play trains with Uncie J. The next morning as I played trains with Carter he told me, "Uncie J taught me if you want the track to go the other way, you just flip it over." It was so cute! Each trip to his uncie's house he was so excited to go potty because he knew an Oreo cookie would be awaiting him when he was finished. Yesterday we walked to Jeremy's house to take care of his cats, it's less than a mile away, and Carter excitedly told me, "At Uncie J's house I get juice and a cookie when I go potty." It was so sweet picturing Jeremy carefully preparing juice and getting a cookie out for Carter. I know Jeremy's favorite times were the times he spent with Carter. He was always good with kids. He worked in our church's nursery for a while when we were growing up and the woman working with him told my mom he could always get the babies to stop crying. It must have been his gentle, sweet nature. He loved the unbridled happiness of a child. All of our little cousins loved him. I have always felt he would love a job where he could work with and help children.

With our cousin, Evan.

Carter loves reading with his Uncie J!

Elise loves her Uncie J and loves touching his facial hair!

Now I think of all these things as I watch my brother fighting for his life. But once again he's making it look easy. I guess not quite on purpose this time as he has no control over what his body is doing. There's just something peaceful about him. He's always had a calm, peaceful presence and now is no different. The only place I feel close to calm right now is beside his bed. Just like always, he's doing this his own way. There are days with great numbers that are followed by huge spikes and lots of fear. Then back to good numbers. Jeremy has always brought a roller coaster of emotions to our family and today is no different. Yesterday his ICP would spike into the 30's and 40's, they'd get it back down and it would happen again. Today it continued to happen and they tried one last thing. We are at a place where if this last medication doesn't keep his ICP down, there aren't other options. We are afraid. We are grieving. We are hopeful. 

At this point we know there has been an extensive amount of brain damage and who he will be if he makes it through this may not be who he was the day this happened. I find myself thinking back to those last days with him before the accident. I will always treasure those memories. Running the Race Into the New Year, watching him with Carter at the Polar Bear Plunge while he kept Carter out of the water as Carter was desperate to jump in, eating fondue together, and then my most treasured memory, him reading Carter a bedtime story. He read with such expression, even including accents and voices and Carter laughed a belly laugh throughout the story. He kept asking if Uncie J could come read him that book and has asked for it to be read to him every night since. I think I am going to keep the book and pay the library fines. It was the last book Jeremy read to Carter before his accident and I can almost feel his hands on it when I hold it. 

Jeremy reading Carter "Take Me to Your BBQ"

I know we are never ready to lose a loved one. When we lose someone we love it is always too soon. We can say it over and over and it never changes. But 29 years is not long enough. It's not long enough for me to show him how much it has meant to me to have him as my brother. It's not long enough to have raced him in the streets. It's not long enough to have heard his voice, seen his eyes, held him in an embrace. There is nothing I want more in this moment than to look into his eyes and hear him speak my name. Please pray for us that this new medication is able to keep his ICP down. 29 years is not long enough for me to have loved my brother and 31 years is not long enough for him to have experienced everything he deserves from life. I love you all and can't express how much your prayers, love, and words of encouragement have meant to me. As my dad said today, "Each day brings a glimmer of hope and a mountain of despair." Thank you for adding to my glimmer of hope.  



This is one of my favorite recent pictures of him, look at that stroll!