for my brother

i intended for this post to be completed last week and posted on the actual anniversary of rodney's passing, but it just didn't happen. i found that it was too much to do all at one time. i've never really put my feelings about him into words before. so i took baby steps in getting it done. originally i debated about whether or not i should even do the post - it's so personal. but really what is the blog about? it's our electronic journal of our lives and his life and death had a huge impact on me and plays a major part of the person that i am. so this is for him and for my family.

in loving memory of my big brother, rodney gene james. born on january 5th, 1959 and left this place for a better one on october 17th, 1982 at the young age of 23. rodney's death was due to a tragic motorcycle accident and occurred on what would have been our mother's 45 birthday. she had passed on six years earlier from a car accident. rodney spent four years in the united states navy following in the footsteps of his father and our older brother david. some of my most cherished possessions are letters that he wrote to home during his time abroad.

i was nine years old at the time of his accident. though i was young i have very clear memories of him. my favorite happened when i was about 5. he had come to visit us in illinois and arrived late at night. i was an early riser as a kid and the first thing i wanted to do was see him. i ran into the living room where he was sleeping and tried to wake him, but he was still really tired. not wanting to leave his side i decided to try his pants on while i was waiting. it sounds so strange now, but i remember at the time it seemed like a really fun thing to do. they were so big that i could pull them over my head. i paraded around in them and then stood there waiting patiently for him to wake up, which was shortly after. i can't remember if the laughter woke him up or if one of the other boys tackled him. they were as excited to see him as i was.

what i remember most about rodney is how much he loved me. he was such a kind and loving big brother to me. i inherited a lot of family snap shots and in almost all of them if rodney and i are in a picture together i am in his arms or sitting on his lap. we were good friends he and i. when i think about him, i still feel that love and affection. the day that i found out about his accident plays in my head like a movie. i was in school and my dad came to the door and asked to speak with my teacher. that in itself was nothing unusual, my dad was the principal and every once in awhile he would do that. but as he spoke to the teacher i got a sick feeling in my stomach and i knew instantly that something was wrong. so when the teacher came back in and called for me i wasn't surprised. my dad didn't speak to me as he lead me into one of the rooms that was used for special studies. when we sat down he told me what had happened and my head just swam. i was so confused and didn't understand. we had just found out a few weeks before that rodney was coming for thanksgiving and i just kept thinking over and over again "but that can't be, he's coming in a few weeks. it's not true." but of course it was. the hard part was that we didn't go to the funeral. at the time i accepted my dad's story of "we just want to remember him the way he was". but now as an adult i know it was the family drama that they wanted to keep us away from. they were afraid of what might happen if we went. it's a whole different traumatic story but a simple version is that after my mom died three of us (there were five altogether) went to live with her sister and her husband. our bio dad was still around, but not fit to raise us and he would be at the funeral. i'm not sure what the right choice was and i understand and respect how tough a choice it was for them. i just know that the closure of saying goodbye would have meant alot to us. instead, we just didn't talk about him. almost like his name was taboo. it's very hard to explain. it was the same way with our mom. she died when i was almost three and i didn't know what she looked like until i was a teenager. and we never talked about her when i was little. it wasn't until i got married that we started to have real conversations about her life.

now here i am, 26 years later. more years than he had of life and i think about him a lot. i feel his presence sometimes. i try not to think about what he would be doing now because it's too painful and honestly i believe that everything in life happens for a reason. so while i don't know what the reason was, i know that there was one. and i know that he's happy. that brings me a great deal of comfort. the years after our mom died were very hard for him. but sometimes when i am thinking about him, i will let my mind wander and imagine what his life would be like now. i picture him here playing with my kids. i like to think that we would be close. and he is a part of our lives now. i talk about him to my kids. i want them to know him and how special he was. and i see him in my daughter brooke's eyes. she reminds me so much of him. that is such a blessing to me. i know that i will see him again someday. what a sweet reunion that will be.

david, greg, rick, me and rodney
the last picture i have ever seen of us all together. you have to love the 70's for fashion.