Jimmy 1964-2009
My step-brother Jimmy died Thursday morning. He had a brain tumor. He was 44.
Jimmy died on his step-daughter Melissa’s birthday, not long after finally marrying Sandra.
Jimmy was obstinate, opinionated, and reckless. At times I questioned his judgment. I never questioned Jimmy’s passionate loyalty to those he cared about. Jimmy’s love transcended barriers we think are real.
There is a portrait of Jimmy holding his daughter Jessica (see photo) as a baby. It hung in our parent’s house. Jimmy loved that portrait, often expressing his delight in how the artist captured the difficult qualities of light. What I saw in that portrait was the love of a father for his daughter.
Jimmy was athletic, and sometimes competitive to a fault. Volleyball games against his brother Frank always seemed to get boisterous. Jimmy drove too fast. One time, on the highway, a car flew past our parent’s car. His mother, Carmella, said to my dad "Look at that asshole."
Dad responded "Honey, that asshole is your son."
Sometimes I’d swear he would say things just to get his sisters Debbie, Dianne, and Susie riled.
The last time I really spoke with Jimmy we didn’t say much at all. My dad laid dying in an ICU bed between us. Jimmy looked over at me with his amber-brown eyes and asked "What can I say?"
I think words fail at death.
What can I say?
I can say I haven’t been around much lately, and that weighs on me. I can say I’m glad Jimmy reached out on FaceBook. I can say Jimmy always treated me kindness and warmth, even when I got confused and let a strange dog eat his Frisbee, and I will miss him.
I’m not alone in that. Jimmy loved and was loved by an extended circle of family and friends.