Sunday, November 21, 2010

Gabe

Gabe is my “little” brother.  He’s 3 ½ years younger than me.  He outgrew me when I was in high school, though, and he picks on me like he’s the big brother.  I tell him all the time that if I knew that he was going to be this mean to me now that he’s bigger, life would have been miserable for him when he was smaller than me.

Gabe and Sawan never lived in the same town together, so they didn’t get as much of a chance to get to know each other as Sawan and I would have liked.  The summer that Sawan died, we went on a 3-5 mile walk nearly every night.  We got so much talking done during those walks.  On one of the last ones, the week before he died, we were talking about Gabe and Mary, and how much he wished we just lived closer, and how much he just missed them.  The “Mini Hoggatts” as we call them, were coming for a visit a week after Sawan died.  So we were talking about how excited we were to get to be with them.

I love being around Gabe and Mary as a couple.  They are so in love with each other.  Gabe is so affectionate.  When Sawan and I would be around them, Sawan would initiate affection with me so much more readily.  He took his cues from Gabe.  I loved that.  We would be in the car, and the boys would be in the front and the girls in the back, and Sawan would reach from the front seat to hold my hand.  Sigh.

Couldn't resist putting in this photo.  Doesn't he look like a movie star?
Gabe is in the army.  He’s a tough guy.  We don’t talk about it, but I’m sure he’s seen a lot of really, really bad stuff.  This is why, when they started throwing around the term “PTSD” with me, I really balked.  I have a brother who is a soldier.  You don’t just say that.  But Gabe and I had a really great conversation about it, where he gently and sweetly made me feel that what I’ve been through is significant, and reminded me that we don’t have to keep score.

Thank you, Bubba, for your perfectly timed phone calls, and for making me feel cared for from afar.  Oh, and thanks for defending my freedom.  I love you.

Me and two of my favorite men in San Francisco, January, 2007

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