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My eldest brother Greg and I always had a special relationship; maybe because He was the oldest and I was the youngest. He taught me a lot about the world, proper manners in different Asian restaurants, how to not “bruise” champagne and a lot of Toastmaster stuff. he was smart and funny and generous if a little intense at times. He stuck by me when no one else did.
He had been suffering from Hydrocephalus for a long time before getting diagnosed, then spent the last 5 years of his life in nursing homes. I had medical POA and sat up with him in the hospital during surgeries, celebrated even minor holidays with him and was basically his emotional support animal. The week before this trip to New Orleans he was in the hospital on a breathing machine with pneumonia and the doctors didn’t expect him to make it. They took him off the ventilator and he was fine. I saw him Saturday in the hospital and he was looking good and talking and everything.
I visited him Monday before leaving Tuesday for New Orleans. I was shocked at how quickly he had deteriorated but we had a wedding renewal planned and I could see him when I came back and show him the pictures.
Thursday morning, the day of the ceremony scheduled for 5, my other brother Russell showed up unannounced at my hotel, which was very out of character for him. He and Bob went off to have a private conversation, which was also weird. All Russell had to say was “The nursing home called…” and he choked up and I started crying. I moved from the bar to a couch so people wouldn’t see me crying, then up to my room.
What were we going to do? We had invited 16 people to travel down to New Orleans with us, but I was broken. Finally, I said, “Well, we have to eat…there’s a place across the street…”
Russell said, “If we’re going to eat, we are going to Galatoire’s” so I washed my face and we walked the block over…