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Oceanside Pier, thirty seconds

Thursday, February 2, 2017

Buzz


My brother Buzz is dying. The immunosuppressants that they gave him so that he wouldn't reject his new kidney somehow let a cancer wreak havoc in his colon and then liver. Happened very fast. A horrible cancer that he was not aware he harbored. Stage Four. Months, maybe a year. He is handling it well. It is killing me. I've known for a month or two.

I wasn't going to get specific but he told me this morning that he would prefer to read his obituary while he was alive. Said that he was the son of a respected editor and he refuses to go quietly into the night. He also said that I had made him angry at the end of our last phone conversation.

"What did I say?"

"You said, I will call you tomorrow."

"Oh."

My brother is sixteen months younger than I. We have always been joined at the hip, went through a lot of chaos together in our youth, discord and abuse that would have cracked us separately. Back to back. I can't express my love for him enough, cry every day. He is brilliant, witty, a lawyer and then chef and restauranteur by trade.

So expect a lot of sad country music for the next six or eight months. And a lot of stories about our life together when I can get composed. Will try to teach you about a wonderful guy. A guy with a wife, children, grandchildren, family and friends that love him.

This year is all about my brother for me. Forget politics, forget everything. My brother.