Member-only story
THE WIND PHONE
My Brother's Life and Death Went Unnoticed
We celebrate life’s passing differently
When did we begin to celebrate death? Shift from funerals with bodies lowered to the ground and earth tossed on top to an occasion to gather and share grief and loss along with memories and laughter.
As I age and my siblings with me I am trying to assemble details of my early life and that of my parents when I was a child. The trouble is, my siblings are older: seven, ten, and twelve years older than me. Their memories are not mine. Our parents were different. When they talk about our mum and dad, it’s as if they were not the same ones that I had.
Then there is my baby brother. I have strong memories of his death. Some of them have been proven inaccurate. And I will never be able to verify the ones I have. My parents are long gone as are most of their contemporaries. I long ago lost touch with the people I called aunt and uncle in our small town. Not my relatives by blood, but ones we chose when ours were far away.
My oldest sister recently told an inquiring family member that my parents lost a baby in between me and my next sister. I was puzzled. Then I realized she meant the baby who died when I was six. I have the marker from his grave. So my memories are true. Truer than hers…
