Well, it finally happened. I sat watching the inauguration today and suddenly realized that my little brother, Eli, will not be watching this and giving some kind of running commentary. Tears that wouldn't come at a funeral not meant for me and in the days since finally flowed unbidden.
For those of you who don't know, Elijah Eatman, a close friend of Kevin's and mine, was found dead in his apartment by his mother after going home sick earlier in the week. From the moment I moved up here and began to hang out with all of Kevin's friends, I put them into my extended family. I've never been this far away from my regular family, so I needed some folks to turn to. They were all into sci-fi, fantasy and anime, so we all became fast friends that helped each other embrace our inner geek. The Quinns, along with my nieces and all my students and, became adopted children, taking the place of those we couldn't have. Maureen, Kathy, and then Brandy became the sisters I always wanted. Chris and Darrin became like those cousins you rarely see, but love hanging with when you get them back into your life. Tom (another friend of ours and Eli's that passed two years ago from complications stemming from his kidneys) became my eldest brother, the gruff but lovable one who lead the family with his foot in your ass and his heart devoted to your soul. Darryl became my dreamy eyed middle brother, the one who always wanted to see everyone happy and would never harm a soul. Dean became my twin, the one born a few minutes before me and capable of more bluster and pride in himself, but (if possible) twice as much bluster and pride on my behalf. Drew became a younger middle brother, picking up Eli's goofy slack and getting us all into trouble as he joined our group of gamers.
And Eli was the baby, the one I had to protect from jibes and push in the right direction. Tom's departure set his feet truly on the path to independence, but he himself pulled on the bootstraps and got himself where he wanted to be. In not hearing from him, I was actually comforted, because I knew it meant he was finally okay. Even when he WAS over here, he'd lost the need to impress or defend himself because he was fully comfortable with who he was, despite what anyone else thought.
It took a while to grieve. I felt robbed at the funeral, cheated of my chance to release in such strange settings. Eli was a Muslim, so the women sat in the back at his funeral and weren't allowed at the gravesite at ALL. The men couldn't even touch the women, so African American males shook hands with my husband, but apologized to me and passed on. Kevin said it was odd to be treated like a prince by a group of black men while his black wife was shunned like a member of the KKK. After that, Kevin needed time to adjust and grieve himself, so, like all people who care for each other, my thoughts about the whole event disappeared as I comforted him in his time of need. Later, when he was coming to terms, it just seemed silly to cry over something I felt I'd already gotten past.
I really believed that I was okay up until now.
I'm sorry he's gone. I can't believe I won't get to tell those guys to "leave that boy alone, he's not doing ANYTHING to you" anymore, as if he NEEDED a defender. I won't get to burst into hysterical laughter at his rapid fire chipmunk laugh, correct his spelling, or remind him that, no matter what his family says, finding a woman to be with is NOT a necessity if he's happy. I won't get to see him eventually find that spooky anime loving horror movie going chick with the smoky voice and a dominatrix outfit in her back closet, behind her Hot Topic wedding dress and her "Foamy" t-shirt (yeah, I guess I've thought this through a bit!).
Mostly, I'm just plain old sorry for me. I wish I had more stories to share than this. Kevin knew Eli from college in the Anime Club and our other friends grew up together. I moved so much as a child that I never spent more than 3 years in any school before college (and even then, I went to 3 different colleges before finishing up at UNT). I wish, as I always do, that I'd had a history with all of my friends beyond what I've got now. God knows I'm grateful for what I do have with all of you today, but man, I wish we'd all been neighborhood pals and everything and could talk for hours about all the fun we used to have. I don't know if that would make me miss Eli less, but it'd sure feel more tangible than what I've got right now.
For my sake, I would appreciate it if all my friends would wait at least a decade before deciding to check out on me. Two in three years is a little much.
D.
For those of you who don't know, Elijah Eatman, a close friend of Kevin's and mine, was found dead in his apartment by his mother after going home sick earlier in the week. From the moment I moved up here and began to hang out with all of Kevin's friends, I put them into my extended family. I've never been this far away from my regular family, so I needed some folks to turn to. They were all into sci-fi, fantasy and anime, so we all became fast friends that helped each other embrace our inner geek. The Quinns, along with my nieces and all my students and, became adopted children, taking the place of those we couldn't have. Maureen, Kathy, and then Brandy became the sisters I always wanted. Chris and Darrin became like those cousins you rarely see, but love hanging with when you get them back into your life. Tom (another friend of ours and Eli's that passed two years ago from complications stemming from his kidneys) became my eldest brother, the gruff but lovable one who lead the family with his foot in your ass and his heart devoted to your soul. Darryl became my dreamy eyed middle brother, the one who always wanted to see everyone happy and would never harm a soul. Dean became my twin, the one born a few minutes before me and capable of more bluster and pride in himself, but (if possible) twice as much bluster and pride on my behalf. Drew became a younger middle brother, picking up Eli's goofy slack and getting us all into trouble as he joined our group of gamers.
And Eli was the baby, the one I had to protect from jibes and push in the right direction. Tom's departure set his feet truly on the path to independence, but he himself pulled on the bootstraps and got himself where he wanted to be. In not hearing from him, I was actually comforted, because I knew it meant he was finally okay. Even when he WAS over here, he'd lost the need to impress or defend himself because he was fully comfortable with who he was, despite what anyone else thought.
It took a while to grieve. I felt robbed at the funeral, cheated of my chance to release in such strange settings. Eli was a Muslim, so the women sat in the back at his funeral and weren't allowed at the gravesite at ALL. The men couldn't even touch the women, so African American males shook hands with my husband, but apologized to me and passed on. Kevin said it was odd to be treated like a prince by a group of black men while his black wife was shunned like a member of the KKK. After that, Kevin needed time to adjust and grieve himself, so, like all people who care for each other, my thoughts about the whole event disappeared as I comforted him in his time of need. Later, when he was coming to terms, it just seemed silly to cry over something I felt I'd already gotten past.
I really believed that I was okay up until now.
I'm sorry he's gone. I can't believe I won't get to tell those guys to "leave that boy alone, he's not doing ANYTHING to you" anymore, as if he NEEDED a defender. I won't get to burst into hysterical laughter at his rapid fire chipmunk laugh, correct his spelling, or remind him that, no matter what his family says, finding a woman to be with is NOT a necessity if he's happy. I won't get to see him eventually find that spooky anime loving horror movie going chick with the smoky voice and a dominatrix outfit in her back closet, behind her Hot Topic wedding dress and her "Foamy" t-shirt (yeah, I guess I've thought this through a bit!).
Mostly, I'm just plain old sorry for me. I wish I had more stories to share than this. Kevin knew Eli from college in the Anime Club and our other friends grew up together. I moved so much as a child that I never spent more than 3 years in any school before college (and even then, I went to 3 different colleges before finishing up at UNT). I wish, as I always do, that I'd had a history with all of my friends beyond what I've got now. God knows I'm grateful for what I do have with all of you today, but man, I wish we'd all been neighborhood pals and everything and could talk for hours about all the fun we used to have. I don't know if that would make me miss Eli less, but it'd sure feel more tangible than what I've got right now.
For my sake, I would appreciate it if all my friends would wait at least a decade before deciding to check out on me. Two in three years is a little much.
D.
