I Guess He Showed Me

My surviving brother, Sean, let the world and me know, via Facebook, that he was to have a heart catheter and, perhaps, a stent procedure this morning.

By his choice, we have not been on speaking terms since 2006 but he let it be known, through mutual friends and Facebook (he agreed to friend me a month ago) that he’d appreciate me being there “for him.”

He gives me credit for saving his life in 1986 when he “coded” twice as a result of years of booze and cocaine addiction.

Twenty years later, he declared he was no longer my brother because, according to him, I would not visit him when, once again according to him, he was on his death bed.

And he’s correct when he said I didn’t visit him but he failed to mention the God awful fight we had the month before. It didn’t come to blows but I screamed at him till I couldn’t talk.

He also failed to mention that Dan, our now deceased brother, visited him in his 4th floor hospital room. Dan was in a wheelchair and unable to get in or out of a car by himself much less get his wheelchair out of trunk. He was blind in one eye and almost blind in the other so, if he did get himself into the hospital elevator, he wouldn’t be able to get himself to Sean’s bedside.

So, how did Dan manage to get Sean’s room? He managed to get there coz I managed to get him out of the car, into the wheelchair, up the elevator and push him through the door to sit in vigil over our baby bro.

Yeah, my bringing Dan to see him in 2006 was the last little bit of info he failed to mention during his declaration as to reasons for my dismissal from brotherhood.

I don’t really feel bad about the last 8 years. I’ve not missed talking to Sean. He’s an overwhelming presence. Brilliant, funny and articulate. But, most of the time there’s only room for one opinion, his. I can’t say my life has been worse since he’s disowned me. In fact, life hasn’t been too bad without him.

But, it was nice to know he missed me. That’s why I “messaged” him and asked, “Do you need a ride?”

I appreciated Sean’s return text, “No thanks, Eddie’s taking me.”

I talked with a mutual friend and decided the right thing to do was to show up and support Sean through the procedure. I was told, “That’s what he really wants.”

So, at 6:30 this morning, I reported to the Hospital’s Heart Cath Outpatient Lab to do whatever I had to do to show my last living brother I was “there for him.”

“That’s nice,” the receptionist said. “The procedure was scheduled for today. But it has been cancelled.”

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About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
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