A Personal Update

all that reading about suffering comes in handy

Photo by Nataliee Shell 🇺🇦 on Unsplash

I sat down Monday of last week and outlined a post about the process of repentance, Middle Ages Jewish scholar, Maimonides, and Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg’s excellent book, On Repentance and Repair. I was planning to come back and flesh it out Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning. Then I left to meet a friend for coffee.

It was a pleasant, ordinary, chat. I didn’t realize it would be my last bit of normalcy for some time. As I was walking back to my car, I got word that my middle brother, Karl, was missing. I had a bad feeling but held out hope until his body was found the following evening.

Karl had long struggled with alcoholism. It was almost certainly a contributing factor in his death, if not the direct cause. While I never blamed him for his addiction, it put tremendous strain on our relationship.

Growing up as first- and second-born, we competed over grades and achievements, often defining ourselves by our dissimilarities—he’s the athlete, I’m the artist. It’s funny how fiercely we cling to old family roles. In truth, we were more similar than either of us acknowledged.

me, approx. age 6, Caleb, 2, and Karl, 4

No matter how hard we butted heads, I always felt the big sister’s urge to protect. Even once he grew taller than me, downing raw eggs and spending hours in the gym, I could still sense something small and fragile in him, a baby chick I wanted to shelter in my cupped palms.

Many people loved Karl. Many people tried to help him. We tried our damnedest; I think he did, too.

Since he’s been gone, I find myself craving long walks. I’ve always been more the indoorsy type—perhaps interests like “hiking” and “nature” were things I ceded to him. The morning after he died, I took the long way back from the school bus stop. The sun was rising, and Mount Rainier’s snow was just visible through the hazy blue.

It was one of those moments where you hold the and-ness of life. Life is beautiful and horrible, funny and sad; it’s absurd and it makes sense.

I’m grateful for the chance to talk about Karl. I’m grateful for the many people who’ve called and texted and crammed my fridge full of food this past week. I’m grateful for my own recovery work, that, as awful as this is, I can face it.

To make a long story even longer, I’m not sure when we’ll get back to Maimonides. I’m taking it one day at a time for the time being. Till then, here are some nature photos to tide you over:

rain on Lake Washington

early spring

my kids explore the old school bus on Tiger Mountain

And here are some extra grief-y bonus materials:

• David Sedaris’ hilarious, sad essay about the death of his sister, Tiffany

• this Watsky song

• learning about funeral/mourning rituals has been weirdly comforting? Here’s an article about Irish wakes