PapaChach got me thinking about my brother..

In his fine diary today, PapaChach muses again about his late wife, makes me get all misty (wry grin), and includes an excellent song.

Got me thinking about my brother, and excellent songs.

When I got to California for his funeral last October, my sis-in-law had a request. They needed three songs for the service. She'd picked two. Her request to me: pick the third, and it has to be an REM song.

Which was fitting.

REM was probably my brother's favorite band. If not, it was in the top three. They were in my top five, as well. Furthermore, I'm the one that introduced him to REM. Further furthermore :-), his very first concert he ever went to? You guessed it. And who took him? Got that one, too. Summer of 84--I was 19, he 16--at the Orpheum in Boston. He would've told you until the day he died it was the greatest show he ever saw. I'll tell you right now it's the greatest show I ever saw by anyone not named Springsteen :-).

Also, by a happy act of complete coincidence...the last time I saw my brother alive was last March. Even though the prognosis at that time was "great! No worries!" I still got my ass out there for a week. (And it's a good thing.) And my visit, by complete coincidence, coincided with REM being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Patrick and I sat on his couch watching it. They even brought their old drummer, Bill Berry, back--he'd retired in like 1996. Patrick always called Bill Berry "The Unibrow"..because he certainly has one...and I can clearly remember Patrick saying, "The Unibrow's back and they're playing all the old shit! This is like 84 at the Orpheum!"

Yeah, so, if there was to be music at my brother's service, there must be REM. And if there was to be REM, I'd be doing the picking. My sis-in-law knew this.

I had the complete works of REM on my laptop (of course), so I spent the first night in the hotel room listening. The next morning, I went to my sis-in-law's house, found Patrick's copy of "Murmur", and handed it to her. "Track six."

PERFECT CIRCLE

Put your hair back, we get to leave
Eleven gallows on your sleeve
Shallow figure, winner's paid
Eleven shadows way out of place
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room

Pull your dress on and stay real close
Who might leave you where I left off?
A perfect circle of acquaintances and friends
Drink another, coin a phrase
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room

Try to win and suit your needs
Speak out sometimes but try to win
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room

Sometimes it's hard for me to listen to REM. But I do it, every so often. He really would've liked the new album; it sounds like their older stuff.

Damn, I miss the big lug.

RIP, little brother.

•  Tips for REM

  by ChurchofBruce on Sun Apr 13, 2008 at 11:27:41 PM PDT

•  Funny-stange that REM's The One I Love

  used to mean, for me, the lover that taped it for me, but also
  now is about my brother who died long before that lover was
  in my life.

  Thank you, Church of Bruce. The ones we love actually won't be
  left behind when there's music and diaries like yours.

  by begone on Sun Apr 13, 2008 at 11:57:37 PM PDT

•  I lost 2 brothers of my own.

  They were 24 and 36 years old at the time of their respective deaths. So I think I know how you feel.

  The feeling of lose will never subside but in time his memory will enrich our life rather than diminish it.

  He lives on in your thoughts and actions, in your hear and your voice and even in your genes.

  God bless you and keep you And may you never feel such again.

  May your brother and mine forever rest in peace.
  May their memories live on in those who loved them.
  And may we never forget the joy they brought into our lives.
  

  This is for your brother.

  by notquitedelilah on Mon Apr 14, 2008 at 12:25:26 AM PDT

•  holes

  I lost my mother almost two years ago, and the grief still feels as raw as that Friday afternoon I watched her exhale for the last time.

  One of my brothers told me something he heard from a book, or a priest, or a book written by a priest, i dunno ... loss leaves a hole in us that we simply cannot fill – but we can build up everything around it.  

  sometimes that cheers me up. sometimes it doesn't.
  but those are odds I can live with.

  by metalgroupie3000 on Mon Apr 14, 2008 at 03:54:30 AM PDT