How to Watch Your Brother Die

A poem by Michael Lassell.

When the call comes, be calm.
Say to your wife, "My brother is dying. I have to fly
to California."
Try not to be shocked that he already looks like
a cadaver.
Say to the young man sitting by your brother's side,
"I'm his brother."
Try not to be shocked when the young man says,
"I'm his lover. Thanks for coming."

Listen to the doctor with a steel face on.
Sing the necessary forms.
Tell the doctor you will take care of everything.
Wonder why doctors are so remote.

Watch the lover's eyes as they stare into
your brothers eyes as they stare into
space.
Wonder what they see there.

Remember the time he was jealous and
opened your eyebrow with a sharp stick.
Forgive him out loud
even if he can't
understand you.
Realize the scar will be all that's left of him.

Over coffee in the hospital cafeteria
say to the lover, "You're an extremely good-looking
young man."
Hear him say,
"I never thought I was good enough looking to
deserve your brother."

Watch the tears well up in his eyes. Say,
"I'm sorry. I don't know what it means to be
the lover of another man."
Hear him say,
"It's just like a wife, only the commitment is
deeper because the odds against you are so much
greater."
Say nothing, but
take his hand like a brother's.

Drive to Mexico for unproven drugs that might
help him live longer.
Explain what they are to the border guard.
Fill with rage when he informs you,
"You can't bring those across."
Begin to grow loud.
Feel the lover's hand on your arm
restraining you. See in the guard's eye
how much a man can hate another man.
Say to the lover, "How can you stand it?"
Hear him say, "You get used to it."
Think of one of your children getting used to
another man's hatred.

Call your wife on the telephone. Tell her,
"He hasn't much time.
I'll be home soon." Before you hang up say,
"How could anyone's commitment be deeper than
a husband and wife?" Hear her say.
"Please. I don't want to know all the details."

When he slips into an irrevocable coma,
hold his lover in your arms while he sobs,
no longer strong. Wonder how much longer
you will be able to be strong.
Feel how it feels to hold a man in your arms
whose arms are used to holding men.
Offer God anything to bring your brother back.
Know you have nothing God could possibly want.
Curse God, but do no
abandon Him.

Stare at the face of the funeral director
when he tells you he will not
embalm the body for fear of
contamination. Let him see in your eyes
how much a man can hate another man.

Stand beside a casket covered in flowers,
white flowers. Say,
"Thank you for coming," to each of several hundred men
who file past in tears, some of them
holding hands. Know your brother's life
was not what you imagined. Overhear two
mourners say, "I wonder who'll be next?" and
"I don't care anymore,
as long as it isn't you."

Arrange t o take an early flight home.
His lover will drive you to the airport.
When your flight is announced say,
awkwardly, "If I can do anything, please
let me know." Do not flinch when he says,
"Forgive yourself for not wanting to know him
after he told you. He did."
Stop and let it soak in. Say,
"He forgave me, or he knew himself?"
"Both," the lover will say, not knowing what else
to do. Hold him like a brother while he
kisses you on the cheek. Think that
you haven't been kissed by a man since your
father died. Think,
"This is no moment not to be strong."

Fly first class and drink Scotch. Stroke
your split eyebrow with a finger and
think of your brother alive. Smile
at the memory and think
how your children will feel in in your arms,
warm and friendly and without challenge.

Is there any more room for me in those jeans?

Cramps! Yay!

And class and work... I called about getting an apartment at Hensley square this morning. They're holding it for me until tomorrow so I can look at it. I guess I'll sign the lease then... the only thing I don't like is no dishwasher and no washer/dryer hook-ups. Uggggghhhhhhh. What makes it a BIG plus is how close it is to the Tomlinson's.

That reminds me (unfortunately) that I had a horrible nightmare last night about the boys. I was awful. I can't wait to see them this afternoon. They didn't die, as people usually do in my dreams. It would have been better that way, though.

I spent a great deal of time Monday watching Boy Meets World. It was so refreshing to watch some simply comedy. I love a lot of funny things, but this was so innocent and wonderful... no political commentary, G-rated sex jokes... fantastic. That night I also watched Fight Club for the first time- very good, though I think my expectations were a little high. Last night we watched Peter Pan. I LOVE that movie. That little boy is so beautiful. I had to go to bed before we finished it, though. Sad day.

Fondu Thursday! I'm very excited!

I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me

I'm going to be angsty and upset for another moment today.

I've been trying for quite some time now to reconcile myself with some of the anger and resentment issues I have with my mother. As I laid down for a nap a little bit ago, many of these things started surfacing once again, and in a half-asleep state I started imagining the arguement that will never actually happen where I finally get to tell her how much she hurt me.

In my head I'm just yelling all these things, and out of my mouth pops "Fuck you for loving her more than you love me."

That had never occured to me. Never. I never once put those words together. But I think that might be the root of my problems.

I think the tears are proof positiive.

Hey! Let's go out dancing! You want to go out to Montauk with me?

4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
Turning my computer on. I have that effect on electronics. Too bad I don't have the same effect on women.
~Trevor James Joiner, esq.

I thought that was to funny not to share, T.J. The fact that it's totally false makes it even funnier. ;)

So... I haven't updated (really updated) in quite some time. I had a list of things I'd written down from my trip to Gulf Shores that I wanted to write about, but I can't find it now. I think I'll go for the bullets style update and hit some of the high points of the last couple weeks:

~ we had a big group over for burgers and portebellos and salad and other such goodies
~ I got stung by a jelly fish
~ I brought lots of butter home from the hotel room
~ Andrew disappeared
~ Jessica, Jeff, Chris, and I ate at O'Charley's (where we saw O'Brian) and then played Cranium
~ chocolate cake shots are the shit
~ Graham and I drove to Tuscaloosa to visit our beautiful sister Lindsey
~ We went caching (unsuccessfully) and I got to an old Bryce Hospital (it was horrible)
~ I had a random conversation with someone who texted me on accident~ I finally hung out with Niki at the fair
~ Jessica and I got into the fair free and had a fantastic time
~ I've been hit on or shouted at (in a good way) at least three times this week (NOT on the internet!)

So... I could type a paragraph about each of those things, and I might, but not now. Classes are good. I'm signing a lease on a one bedroom this week, probably in O'Brian's complex. This would be good for several reasons, including it's proximity to UNA and work. If I can get an apartment there, I will probably start walking to Rosario's, which will be fantastic for gas and, more importantly, health. I'm really happy about this.

Sometimes my mother makes me so angry I want to hit her in the face. I love her. I love her more than I can possibly express. I am thankful for her every day, and I would not trade her for anyone else. But she pisses me the fuck off. Graham came to hang out with Niki and me and I had asked him to grab some money because I was short and couldn't get an arm band, and apparently Mom got really pissy over this... what the fuck?!?? Do you have any idea how much money they/she has blown on my siblings (especially the girls, and DEFINITELY Meagan) in the last several years? I NEVER, and I mean NEVER ask them for money. I have picked up groceries and cigarettes and other things for their house and not asked to be paid back. I could go on, but I won't. I would hate for someone to pick today to check out my page and see what I'm about, only to discern that I'm some whiny teenager. I really don't complain about my parents very much. But damn... I really feel like I should not ever ever ever have to even hesitate to ask them for money, not for stuff I want, and certainly not for stuff I need. One of the reasons I feel I shouldn't have to is because I wouldn't take advantage of that (NOT that my siblings have... Meagan is ridiculously catered to, yes, but they never say no, so why not, on her part, ya know?) I have to stop typing now. I hate rants like these because I could go on forever for one, and for another I don't want to read things like this in a couple years. I want to remember the good stuff.

Anyway. Plans for this weekend? Birmingham Friday, then working and packing Saturday, then moving Sunday... wow. I will miss Bungalow 12 very much.

I've missed you, blog.

Promiscuous girl, wherever you are, I'm all alone, and it's you that I want.

That's all.




Just kidding; I have so much to tell you, but I'm very tired. Class was good. Work was good. I think I shall retire now. I love you.

I was out of town Monday, so here is a belated tribute.

I will always have your back and be curious about you.

Unsent = wonderful song.

Yesterday was good. I'm sore as blazes from tubing. Katie and I took a bad fall and I jarred my neck pretty bad... so of course I kept tubing, and Jeff and I landed after a tremendous leap... I believe I'll remember that one for a long time.

My family is freaking fantastic. I love them. Dinner was great. Lindsey and Graham came over for a bit, and Lindsey ended up spending the night... we (Lindsey, Andrew, Jeff, Jessica, Chris, and me) watched Hostile last night, which is not a Quintin Taretino (spelling?) film at all, whatever they may tell you. It's pretty much just gross. After that, we watched The Little Mermaid, which was wonderful, of course.

I've been with the boys since 8 this morning. I thought I would have been out of here like 4 hours ago, but Rosario's still not home. No big deal, I guess, and the money's nice, but I thought I'd be out at the lake by now chiling with the family some more. Uncle Jim and Aunt Alice are in town for Labordabor. I guess I'll go eat there. Stephen should be home soon.

Jeff and Andrew and Lindsey made my day 2308249 times better by coming to the park this afternoon. Thanks, guys.

Please do.

...and in their purses were candy bars. How happy were they?







Have that kind of happy.

Wandering down this road that we call life...

I've got to stop watching clips from this show. They depress me so much, it's ridiculous. I don't even know why. It's stupid. It's just knowing that it ran for so long and the characters developed and changed so much and then it stopped and... grr. It's probably because I have such fond memories of this particular series. TGIF on ABC. Good times.

You know, I bawl at the last episode of every show I watch. It doesn't matter if I've ever seen another episode. I just think of what it must be like to work with a group of people for so long and to be so involved with the fictional characters as well as the real characters, and then to have that phase of your life end... anyway, moving on...

Speaking of crying, I watched Lady in the Water at the cheap theatre with Jeff and Andrew tonight, and it was fantastic. Okay, that's not quite true; I had to make a concious desicion to stop analyzing the movie and just enjoy it. I have a HUGE crush on Story... she's so innocent and fragile and beautiful and I want to bear her children. Anyway, it was good.

Before that we had Meaghan and Jeff and O'Brian over for hamburgers and portebella burgers and salad and green beans with almonds and and and it was so fun! Jonathan and Meagan were supposed to come, but they bailed. T.J. was invited to, but we didn't expect him to show. It was really fun.

After the movie, Jeff and Andrew and I went to Rivertown and then came here to meet Andrew's cousin Jessica and her friend Stephanie, then my Jessica got home and Chris came back over and we watched some fun clips on YouTube from Jon Stewart and Rocky Horror and such, and Andrew dressed up and danced for it.

Today has been a good day. I'm sorry I didn't post sequentially, but I hope you can decipher the order of events. :)