Losing a younger brother
By Bill Fox/Columnist
My brother Mark and I had planned a visit to California after Easter to see our brother Brian. We had gone down last year right after Easter when we had learned that he had prostate cancer. Apparently, the incidents of that type of cancer among sheet metal workers are higher than the general population.
I find it very sad when family members move away for whatever reason. In Brian’s case, it was to find work in his trade. He first moved to Prince Rupert, BC, for a few years and then found work in Silicon Valley in California.
Our brother was a real outdoors type. Early in his life, he spent summers as a lifeguard at Wasaga Beach and winters as a ski patroller.
After posting on Facebook that he passed away, within hours I received notes and condolences from people I had never heard of before. One young lady met Brian at “Adventure Outings Oldschoolers trip, years ago. We went on several adventures, rafting, hiking and then we both became really great friends,” she told me.
Someone else, a fellow lifeguard at Wasaga, mentioned that there is a Facebook page of lifeguards of that beach from the past, and he would spread the word of my brother’s passing to his old lifeguard friends.
Brian was a great lover of dogs, particularly English sheepdogs. His favourite was named Duke and he was always at his side. On previous visits to Ontario, he had brought Duke with him in his car. Not an easy feat, I would think. My brother was generous to a fault. On our last visit, he insisted on taking no money and treating us at restaurants whenever we ate out.
Several years ago, I finally accepted his invitation to come and see him and tour the San Francisco area. Within a few days, he had tired me out from seeing so many great sights, such as the famous Fisherman’s Wharf and the Haight-Ashbury area said to be the birthplace of the psychedelic rock performers and groups of the time. Acts like Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin all lived a short distance from that intersection. They not only immortalized the scene in song, but also knew many within the community as friends and family. This was a big deal for a teen of the 60s.
Some years ago, he spent a few weeks with us in Oshawa and he really got to know my sons, and mentioned how proud he was to be the uncle of such fine young men. He kept up with family happenings through Facebook and would mention how cute my two granddaughters in British Columbia were.
At times, he was a real techy but we never were able to Skype or Facetime. Maybe he became more conscious of how his appearance was changing due to chemotherapy?
The day of his death, I went to my father’s house to go through some old family pictures and to reminisce. When I pulled up to my Dad’s home, there on the top step were two mourning doves that appeared to be hugging, one smaller than the other. Could this have been the spirits of my mom and my brother?
I had spoke to him five days before he passed when he had just found out that the cancer was now in his pancreas. He sounded weak and winded, but said he would be in touch that weekend. That weekend is when he passed.
As I re-read his will today, I saw that he wanted to die in his home. His wish may have been fulfilled, but I regret that there was no one there with him when he passed, until someone reminded me that often people, even in a hospital, seem to hang on and when visitors leave, they meet their maker…so it was with Brian. Another spirit in heaven that I know is looking after all of our family.
As his outdoor adventurer friend said, “Brian will be missed and God will have another warrior!”