O, Brother


Oh brother where art though. There is a reason why I don’t read the Bible. The stories are too scary for me. They are meant to scare you so you behave.

In the New Testament Jesus is born as the son of God. He dies. He rises only to die again. My little brother is much like my own son. In my mind I practically raised him. I always knew he looked up to me. Kind of like a God at times. I was sorry to let him down that the image he had of me was not the best.

“Be the best version of yourself ” That is what I was told. Celebrating the life of my brother, I am told that he wanted me to be my best version. I don’t believe he would ever say such nonsense. The preacher went on to say the same thing in a sermon. This person was repeating something the preacher said to her.

Its funny how people can be manipulated by things they are told or read. They think that they are their own thoughts and ideas. They are not. Someone, a bird perhaps, put that bug in your ear.

It took me a year to reflect on my life and that of my brother. I think its time to let the emotions out. Even if I am the only person who sees this.

I had to go back and recall all the times we had been together. I can’t possibly remember them all or care to.

Sometimes I think people think I owe my brother something because he helped me out when I was down. For the record this couldn’t be farther from the truth. Me and my brother were a lot alike. We were almost like twins. We helped each other. Always, no matter what.

He wouldn’t want me to be one version of myself. That would be boring. He was many different characters himself. We were a duo. A team.

Truth is anything I did he did also at some point in his life. So I know we don’t owe each other anything. Except I owe him a tribute. I can’t begin to finish his car. I can’t finish my own. So I wanted to write a little story about us after a long career together.

The comedy duo of Charlie and Willie.

I think the joke was always on someone else. Me and my brother always knew what the other was thinking just by an expression. Sometimes we used that power as a way to setup someone for a “funny”.

A joke is always better when someone is in on the joke. Who can you trust though? Who is going to spoil it? Brothers live by a code. You don’t turn a Brother in. You help a Brother out.

Shortly before Willie passed I thought to myself, What would I do if he died? How would I react?

I got that answer. Nothing… I knew it was going to happen. He knew it was going to happen.

I told him one time that someone I truly love had a stroke or heart attack. He said that is what she gets for drinking and smoking. Needless to say I was offended. He drank and smoked. So he knew the consequences.

So now, was he playing a joke on me? Nobody knows except God and we didn’t grow up on religion. It was always a eyeball roller moment between us. God.

Not many people even noticed his final bow. The final joke of his career. He had one request. “Play the Asshole song by Dennis Leary.” It was played twice Once at the beginning and once at the end of the service. Not many took notice. They were too busy grieving or weren’t there at the beginning or the end. Except for those of us who were in on it.

“It was hilarious little brother.”

Now, where do we go from here? Do I go out and find another partner? Who could fill those shoes? They are way too big and his feet stunk.

I think I’ll have to go out on my own for a while. Until I am able to train the next generation of Rozell blood.

So that’s my tribute I guess.

I always wondered, Who would be there to pick me up? I realize I can pick myself up. No help needed.

I don’t want to make this too long. There’s a lot that I can say but like a balloon I need to release my tribute.

Much like Willie’s tattoo. I thought was a vulture, he said it was an eagle,perhaps its a Phoenix and he will rise again.

Born December 10th, Died December 22nd. I guess I’ll see you on Christmas.

Till then I’ll have some deep thinking and bacon bits. Willie loved bacon a little too much I guess and blew his heart to bits.

Jesus Christ, I’m an asshole too.

About Bacon Pro

I am a writer, musician, poet, photographer, communications specialist, Psy Warrior, computer guru, ad representative, painter, mechanic, collector, and a father. I'm also Autistic I will be a communicator of Autism
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