Things I learned from my brother

I learned a lot from my brother. The ultimate lessons were don't drink, smoke, or play games with diabetes. Those might improve the quality of my last years immeasurably.

But the deeper lessons were just part of his total being. He loved nature and wanted to be a park ranger when he was younger until his wilder nature got in the way.

He taught me about eagles and owls and where to see them and how they raised their young. He took me on long car rides to watch the eagles when they fished out of the broken ice of the Mississippi river in February. We sat at his farm and he told me stories about the big black snakes that surrounded us and the owl recuperating in the shed and the mob of kittens and cats that followed him like a miniature pride  when he walked around the fields.

He collected bones he found in the fields and woods and once brought my children a five gallon bucket filled with bones and teeth to play with -- a kind of natural jigsaw puzzle that generated a great deal of concern when I finally placed it at the curb on garbage day years later.

I remember going with him to Sangchris park where they will hold his final services. The geese recognized his car and all swooped in behind to follow his beloved blue PT Cruiser, because they knew he was going to feed them.

I learned not to leave my little shi-tzu alone in the grass or he would have become predator chow and I remember my brother patiently picking burrs out of his fur because he had wandered into the fields and looked like he'd been rolled and breaded.

We were coffee drinkers of the most devout sort. He with sugar and cream. Me black and that sort of sums up why I'm still here and he's gone, but I will miss him.

I already do.