My first ever blog post! Mostly because it's a quiet day and I'm feeling self indulgent, so I wanted to share my thoughts on the 8th anniversary of my brother passing away. Not because I'm terribly sad-- which a part of me, of course, always will be. Everyone who has lost anyone can tell you that. But I wanted to write down some thoughts because my life is good and full and remembering my brother, who I never will know as much as I want to, feels like a way to thank him for contributing to all that goodness.
That's something you'll hear a lot when someone close to you dies. In truth, he drove a lot of people nuts because of that love for him. My brother was a bit of a.. wild soul. He was generous with his laugh and his love- also with his wine and his distaste for just about every rule my parents or the local law force could try to instate.
I've been, more a less, a rule follower my entire life-- more endearingly, as my brother would put it, a 'goody two shoes' or a 'pussy.' Jesse spent many years teasing and taunting me and I responded like any little sister would-- utter and complete adoration. I spent all of my youth (and honestly, even my wiser adulthood) thinking he was the coolest person I would ever know. As much as he was amused and annoyed with my respect of authority, he loved seeing me compromise it.
Jesse gave me my first pack of cigarettes when I was 13. We were in line for some show in Green Bay and I was trying really hard to look cool in front of my friends. As I lit one, he took a picture and picture and later called my dad, in front of everyone, to tell him I was smoking,
When I was 16, my mother reluctantly let me go to a show and stay at his apartment in Green Bay on a school night-- as long as I made it to school the next morning on time. That night, he got me and my friend drunk with some weird concoction with orange juice. I spent the whole 2 hour car ride at 5am and all of band class puking my guts out. To this day, I still can't drink orange juice.
I remember, when I was even younger, my dad leaving camp for an hour or two and Jesse drinking out of the wine bottles and filling them back up with water. My dad noticed almost immediately upon returning and looked toward me to tell the truth- I was a terrible liar and, as aforementioned, a total pussy. "Nope, no way dad. Jesse didn't do that. I was sitting here the whole time," I tried. I think I tried to blame it on my other older brother, Jeff, who was always as sweet to me as Jesse was devious. I was thanked for my valiant (but failed) efforts that night with Jesse sitting and farting on my head. Jeff didn't come to the rescue that time.
Jesse threatened to kill the first boy I ever had a crush on. And the second. And any that I was ever bold enough to introduce him to. He had ideas on who I should date-- and I was not picking according to his plans. When I would visit with my friend Erik (my best friend and fellow good kid but soooo not in that way) or my friend Sean (another one of my closest friends, Jesse had dated his sister and still kind of always had a thing for her), Jesse would write really intricate songs, playing guitar and singing about how we were secretly in love and going to get married. It embarrassed the hell out of me but left everyone else laughing.
Jesse always had everyone laughing. My friends adored him. He knew everyone, including members of our favorite bands. He could talk to anyone. He introduced me once to Fat Mike- lead of NOFX- and I was so nervous and starstruck that I dropped my new camera, shattering it. He made some joke-- and I wish to this day I could remember it-- but it made everyone laugh. It was one of the worst-best moments of my adolescence.
I tried imitating him a lot. In my best moments, I still try to channel that sense of humor and wreckless love of life and people. I always imagined he would be the one to corrupt my kids and teach them how to defy everything I said, when he inevitably lived in my basement when we were older (my brother wasn't the best at holding down steady employment) ;)
I was 20 when my brother died. It was the first in a string of many loses over the next few years. I was blindsided and mostly numb for a long time. I didn't really know what to make of it and I still don't a lot of days, but like I said, today is not about that.
To everyone who knew and loved Jesse- I know you feel as blessed as I do.
I'll love you to my own death and beyond, brother- with just as much blind loyalty as I've always had.
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