my phone rang. It was my brother. He was about two minutes away from my apartment. I urged him to hurry.
We had had a phone conversation a week or so earlier. He wanted to know about my physical condition. I assured him that I was doing alright, considering. That wasn't good enough. He had to come and see for himself that his big sister was OK.
We have a long history of little brother looking out for his sister. Kelly is 15 years younger than me. When he was about four years old, he spent quite a bit of time with me and my young son. At that time we lived in a rented house. The landlord was an grumpy old man who liked to yell at people. That landlord had yelled at me for something long since forgotten, but he did it when Kelly was with me. The next day my mother discovered Kelly with pockets full of rocks. When questioned about the rocks, he said they were to throw at the mean old man who yelled at his sister.
Once Kelly had seen for himself that I was getting along just fine, we sat at the kitchen table, drank coffee and strolled down Memory Lane. And we talked of his kids, my kids and all the grands. It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon.
Kelly wanted to know if there was anything that several thousand dollars would fix as far as my physical condition is concerned. I told him no. I told him that the best I can hope for is maintaining. He remarked that I seemed so happy. I am. I have made peace with the facts of my situation. Mostly I am just content.
We don't get to do this very often. Kelly lives at least a 4 hour drive north of me and his job takes him further afield for months at a time. When he was getting ready to leave, he expressed regret that we couldn't do this more often. I told him that he knows how much I love him and I know how much he loves me. And that is enough.