Oh, Brother

Blogging from the Sweigard residence here in hot but dry Atwater, California.  Feeling a bit revved from my iced grande soy caffe latte. 

You know, it's a beautiful thing.  And, probably one of those strange 'Gloria things' that my friends and relatives attribute to my particular personality and nature.  Just being present in the same state as my younger brothers touches me.  I don't leave until tomorrow to see Gary at the state hospital in Napa; John is working.  But I feel so close to them.  Because, compared to my regular placement in Middle Tennessee, I AM close to them.  Breathing the same smog-tinged California air.  Milling about under the same expanse of sky.  Seeing the same angle of sun, star, and moon.  Oh, and let's not forget sleeping and waking in the same time zone -- which means when Gary calls me at 6:30AM his time, it's no longer 8:30AM my time.  Which further means that when I rise for a quick bladder void at 6:25AM and decide to snuggle under the cozy comforter on my couch bed for an extended sleep, it ain't gonna happen. 

(Having aired that incredibly minor grievance, I'm going on record as having thoroughly enjoyed my conference call with Brother Gary and daughter, Sarah.  They are QUITE the pair.

My handsome sibling of the perpetually-demanding, beyond-full-time, loving-the-challenge, still-somewhat-new job as Merced Irrigation District (MID) manager had to dash out the door this morning, ready for his quick stop at ye local Starbuck's, but invited me to lunch with him after we had our mornings behind us.  While I was fully prepared to await for my allotted precious time with him, I was most pleased when his water pump-a-majig gave out, and he had to come home to see what was up.  Thank you, corroded connection!  I have the pictures to prove it.  Somehow, in the face of a repair call and the necessity to leave work at an inopportune moment, I don't think he felt the same thrill.  Oh, well!  Just as long as ONE of us was happy.  Is that too terribly selfish of me? 

Our late lunch date was relaxed.  We dined at a local Italian place.  My beef ravioli with homemade marinara was filling and tasty -- the sauce was exactly what a marinara should be.  A rounded tomato flavor on the tongue, enhanced by quality extra-virgin olive oil, slow cooked to perfection with an even subtly chunky texture.  Yeah buddy!  We each held ourselves to a solo slice of the thick and slightly chewy white bread (not really Italian bread).  Mine was excellent for sopping.  I'm reliably known to leave behind the cleanest of plates post-meal but pre-dishwashing.  John opted for a shrimp and asparagus over penne selection which had a nice portion of roasted red peppers to boot.  Our talk allowed us a bit of condensed but reflective-subject-matter catching up.  We don't see eye-to-eye on a great many topics, but there's no urging on either side to convince the other of our viewpoint.  At least not now.  Too much water under the rickety old bridge.  It is simply discussed, with pointed questions tossed into the mix, and we move on. 

I miss my brother so terribly much.  He's a good egg.  Cracked a bit, like me, but a very solid fellow at his core.  I've always wished we could have lived closer, that our kids could have been raised together.  That just wasn't to be.  So every visit, however hectic, however brief, however broken up into time chunks, I value with an intensity some may find exaggerated.  Except that I don't exaggerate.  When I say that driving along the roads and freeway which I know John takes to and from work and play and the myriad family jaunts with the wife and kids (all of whom I also love dearly) evoked feeling within me strong enough to choke a horse . . . I MEAN it.  Temporarily, I'm sharing his space and seeing him in his day to day.  I take whatever I can get: and if that means cruising where he cruises, that's good stuff.  

Tomorrow, I'm off to the famous Napa Valley area.  There resides another of my cherished male siblings.  Doubtless, he will be the subject of tomorrow's blog.  I'll just have to find an eatery or hangout where wi-fi is free after our visit.  Somehow, I don't believe the guest dorms at the state hospital will have that available.  Until then, I've got a date with a knife and some fresh baby bok choy.  I'm jazzing up the Thai leftovers from last night for whoever might be interested.

Until next you read, dear readers.  Maybe you might want to give your brother a call or hug or e-mail.  Or, just trace his work commute with your own tires.