I was three when my brother, Robert Hutchins (Bobby), was born.
I don't remember a whole lot about Bobby, or myself, when he was a baby. Except one day, Momma told me to 'watch him' while she went to the bathroom. I watched him alright. I watched him scream when I squeezed daddy's aftershave lotion in his eyes! And then he watched me get my fanny tore up.
Me and my brother were very close when we were little. We slept together, bathed together, and played together. And we got in trouble together. When something got broken or messed up, neither of us would admit guilt, so Mama would spank both of us to make sure she 'got the right one'.
We played such things as cowboys and Indians, school and house. We went out the door early in the morning, and played outdoors all day long, only coming in for dinner and bedtime. We built forts, jumped in piles of leaves, rode bikes, played hide and seek in the tall grass in the field across the road from our house, and played cars in the dirt, using bricks as road scrapers and houses.
We slept in the same bed until I was about ten. Our dachshund, Poochy, slept between us or at our feet and we would fight over who got to put their cold feet on her. But one night Mama said we now have separate rooms. That night, in the wee, dark hours, I heard something dragging on the floor and I lay still as I could because it was coming right towards me. Then it touched the bed. It was my brother, dragging his blanket, sneaking back into the bed we shared before that night.
Eventually he got used to sleeping alone, and we both grew up, and grew away. As teenagers we didn't always agree or see eye to eye, and didn't have very much in common. I started liking boys, and he started liking cigarettes. He moved in with Daddy, and I moved out and got married.
For years and years, we didn't have very much contact at all. I was married, had a baby, got a divorce, and was trying to make a life for myself and my child. He lived with Daddy, worked, moved out from Daddy's and finally met his wife and had a child himself. Our paths usually only crossed at a few holidays and birthdays or family reunions.
Just over the past couple of years have our paths crossed more often. Our step-dad became terminally ill and our whole family rallied around him. Then he passed and finally life started getting back to normal, or as normal as it could.
And then another blow came. My brother Bobby had a heart attack. He had surgery for that and pulled through it well. Again, life started to seem 'normal' again. But yet another blow was to fall.
Now my brother has been diagnosed with lung cancer. So many questions come from us. What? Why? How? Why is it that seemingly innocent or undeserving people get these horrible things. Why are we having this hurt and pain in our family again?
I am happy to say, my brother is taking this all better that I thought he would; better than I myself would have taken it, if it were me. Yes, he has his sad moments, and though I don't see them, probably angry moments.
Bobby has been diagnosed with stage 3-b lung cancer. I don't know what the 'b' stands for. It is in his lung, near the bronchial tube. It is inoperable. But he has taken radiation and chemotherapy. He is now on a trial drug that does not promise cure. It only gives hope for more time. So far, so good.
Again, as with my step dad, I declare this is not about me. This is about my brother. This is his journey. We cannot take the driver's seat from him, we can only be a passenger. We can try to assist with kind words, with help of some kind, with prayers and hopefulness.
This is a song my brother has chosen. The song is for his memorial service, when the time comes. I think it takes a brave person and a good person to choose his own song for his own funeral service.
The song makes me think of the choices I have made myself. Some good. Some not so good. Some I would like to go back if I could, and choose differently.
The song makes me think of the choices I have made myself. Some good. Some not so good. Some I would like to go back if I could, and choose differently.
God, bless my brother on his journey. Hold his hand through out and wrap your arms around him in love and protection. Guide him along the path you would have him go. Let us assist him in any way you see fit and any way that he asks us. Let us learn from him how to be humble and how to accept your will for us. Amen.
I've Had Choices, by George Jones
Since the day that I was born,
There were voices
That told me right from wrong.
If I had listened,
No I wouldn't be here today.
Living and dying
With the choices I've made.
I was tempted.
By an early age I found
I like drinkin'.
Oh, and I never turned it down.
There were loved ones,
But i turned them all away.
Now I'm living and dying
with the choices I've made.
I've had choices
Since the day that I was born.
There were voices
That told me right from wrong.
If I had listened,
No I wouldn't be here today.
Living and dying
With the choices I've made.
I guess I'm paying
For the things that I have done.
If I could go back,
Oh, Lord knows I'd run.
But I'm still losing
This game of life I've played.
Living and dying
With the choices I've made.
I've had choices
Since the day that I was born.
There were voices
That told me right from wrong.
If I had listened,
I wouldn't be here today.
Living and dying
with the choices I've made.
Living and dying
With the choices I've made.
(watch George Jones sing this song by clicking on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQMI7TksYo0
