This week, I lost a brother. You might not be aware that I had any brothers, but my sisters and I have 3: Tristan, Reid, and Patrick Winpenny. Actually Tristan was more than a brother to me; he was my first boyfriend and my soul mate. Okay, we were really young, but he was. Ask my sisters.
When my parents were first married and living in Pawlet, Ned and Patty Winpenny were their closest friends. Of course it was only natural that when they started having babies, their babies would be very close too. From the moment we were born (well, Patrick came later, but we still consider him our brother), we were together. Thick as thieves. Playing, exploring, finding and torturing all sorts of small animals, running around naked in the sun and in the mud, and creating magical bonds that will never die. My Pawlet memories are the best of my life, and I attribute it all to being almost next door to our closest friends and second family. The Winpenny family is so special to us. Ned was tall and mellow, with a great sense of humor and he walked with a long and relaxed stride. He liked to drink beer, and he always smelled good to me. I loved his facial hair. Patty is loving, nurturing, and easily our second mother. She always had nice smelling glycerine soap in the bathroom. I think it was Pears. The boys were our best buddies and nothing could keep us apart. Even when my mom said no, I couldn't be stopped when I wanted to see Tristan. Once I even took Soe with me, who couldn't have been much more than one or two years old since she couldn't talk much. My mom said "not right now," then walked away. I said "Hey Soe, wanna walk up to play with Tris and Reidie?" "Ya!" she said, so we started walking along the road. I'm pretty sure I was naked, and Soe was just wearing a diaper. We almost made it up to their house on the hill, which was a little under a mile from ours, but then a big huge truck came and scared us so much that we decided to turn around. We started walking back and I think my mom picked us up in the car. I'd like to think that instead of spanking me and rushing me home, she brought me up to my boyfriend so we could play. Those days were ecstasy, if a girl as young as I was understood what ecstasy was.
Then, suddenly, we were torn away and had to move. We would never again meet another family that clicked with ours just so. I would never meet another boy that knew me as well as Tristan did. I never forgave my parents for taking us away, but now that I'm a parent I do (sort-of) understand that they were just trying to do what was best for our family. Time went by, and we grew up. My parents kept in touch with Ned and Patty, but we girls didn't do so well. Of course we thought of them all the time and missed them, but we were young, turning into teenagers, and distracted by our new surroundings first in Maine and then in Northern Vermont. It didn't seem to matter though; whenever we reunited, it felt mostly like old times, with a sprinkle of pubertal hormones and the awkward confusion that comes with them. When Ned passed away unexpectedly we went back for a beautiful memorial at the house. I was in such shock, in such a haze of confusion, I don't remember much. I remember the drive up to the house, and having a sense of longing. I remember so many cars we had to park way down the road, around the spot where Soe and I had turned around all those years ago. I remember Tristan, sitting and watching, seemingly in another world. I remember that I couldn't reach him. Patty was in shock and was hugging everybody. I was a teenager at the time, and I was angry. Why did this happen to our Winpenny family, who deserves nothing less than a perfectly happy life? To live and love as they always had? Would Patty every recover from losing her love?
It seems, all these years later, that they did recover. Sort of. We all continued living, and slowly the pain of the loss subsided. The only one that continued to struggle was Reid. In all the years since he lost his Papa, Reid has been a tortured soul. And who can blame him? I certainly don't. But we have all worried, kept Reid close in our hearts and our thoughts, hoping he would find comfort soon. It wasn't until recently that he started coming around. Actually it was just over a month ago that my mom emailed me to say that Reid is doing really well and is helping Tristan with his apiary (my mom keeps me up to date on the boys since I don't do Facebook). Here's a picture she sent me of him with Tristan (on the left).
On Sunday, my mother called to tell me that Reid left us. "Reidie has had an accident" she said, "and I'm afraid he's gone." Just like that, he's gone. Just when I was breathing a sigh of relief for him, his life is over. My overwhelming feelings of sadness have surprised me a little; I have loved from a distance but haven't seen him in so long. Still, he was my brother and time will never change that. I am so sad. On Saturday there will be a memorial for people to come, share love, stories, and comfort each other. Since I will be on my way home from Florida and can't be there, I thought I should write about my favorite memories of Reid.
Reid was beautiful, inside and out. Really. His face was absolutely breathtaking. He had a special spirit. Calm, easy going, thoughtful. He was a lover. His smile would light up a dark room. Reid had the most glorious laugh I have ever heard in my entire life. A mix between a belly laugh and a delicate giggle, that was infectious. Actually all the Winpenny boys laugh like that; it is music to my ears. Of course my fondest memories were from when we were young, before he knew the pain of losing a loved one. I don't have many of just Reid and I - really only one that comes to mind often - since I was usually with Tristan playing doctor. But we had a few fun times just the two of us. Reid was always down for anything and loved to be naughty. Not as much as Tristan, who was very naughty, but naughty enough. They had a big huge barn full of wonderful things to get into. Once, I couldn't find Tristan so I invited Reid to explore and he of course was delighted to oblige. We went into the barn and started digging around for treasures, and found a tarnished old cornet that looked desperately neglected. I said "Hey Reidie, should we surprise your mama and paint it?" He got a twinkle in his eye and helped me find the silver paint. What a job we did. We brought it to the house, holding it up with pride, and somehow Patty held it together. She just kept saying "Oh, no, no, no!" and hugged me while saying it. She always knew how to keep her cool even when desperately trying to hold back the rage. At least that's how I remember it. That family is full of nothing but love.
Reid's spirit will always be with us. I will always think of him when I'm having a quiet, thoughtful moment. I hope that this Saturday, when everyone joins together to honor Reid, each person is able to grab a hold of something that they can take with them, to ease the pain, to cherish the memory. For me, it will always be that delightful and magical giggle.
