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| Tippy Toed |
The urge has hit me. Clean, declutter, organize...Every several years the feeling overcomes me and I know I must act NOW before it quickly passes and I wait a couple more years. Yesterday I accomplished the family room, laundry room and kitchen, and today... the office. The room where all accumulates in no form or reason and piles of my life sit in the closet, or on my desk, neglected and unloved. There is only one way to do this.... Pull it all out in the middle of the room, go through what stays and what goes, find a better way to store it and alas, put everything that stays back in its place...
The hardwoods are barely visible with all that I have pulled out. One side of the room is trash, the other side, treasures. As I look up in the closet to see what was left, there is just one rather large black book sitting on a shelf . It seems unfamiliar to me as I am reaching for it, but the moment I start to pull it down my heart begins to sink. I find the only spot in the room to sit down with the album containing some of my deceased brother David's belongings, photos and notes people sent me... My head starts to spin and my eyes beginning to well... It has been so long since I looked at this, I even forgot I had it. And then in my hands were the Eulogies that Richard and I delivered. As I read them over again the pain was as fresh as the day we wrote them. Cramped in that cluttered room, I found myself hysterically wailing for the loss of my brother almost 4 years ago, but it was long overdue. Once I put that book up in the corner shelf, hidden deep in my disorganized closet, I had stopped my crying. It was time to move on. But today clearly proved that the pain was just as fresh. I try to live my life every day in gratitude and love. I laugh OFTEN. I thank God many many times a day for the blessings he gave me in my boys and Brock. But though I know that "God has a reason" I still feel cheated by his death. I have searched for ways that I have found growth by his dying, and there are plenty... but in my childish immaturity I think, " could you have not taught me another way??" More often than not I feel God's love right then, comforting me, gently bringing me in closer to him and simply saying, "Trust Me". And today, with puddles on the hardwoods, I did just that. I pulled myself up and trusted. And though my room is a disaster, I feel "spring cleaned""
Richards Eulogy:
Believe when I say, (only half jokingly, if you know anything about our family) WE HAVE GOT TO STOP MEETING THIS WAY. Seriously, I started my family late in life and I am running out of children to to name people after. ..So, the way guilt works on me , IF this keeps going I will be trying to have children well into my 50's and I know my beautiful wife Tiffany, as pregnant and as tired as she is right now, wants absolutely nothing to do with that. ( I hoped you chuckle. I know David would have wanted you to. ) So I now invite you to laugh and cry with me as we celebrate David's life.
As a child, David was the classic big brother and I was the classic younger brother. Almost every stereotype fit. I was always trying to stay competitive, but I was rarely ever a close match for him. He was far more gifted than I in so many things that really mattered at that age... Space Invaders: he could more than double my score. Rubik's Cube: he solved it while I was working on my second side. In Indian Guides our given tribal names were, Big Turtle(my father) Little Turtle(David) and Little Turtle Two(myself). That's how we rolled. I would have followed my brother to the ends of the earth, drawn to him(excuse the old adage), like a moth on a flame.
I watched his bright flame with awe and wonder and more than a few times with childhood envy. David was a mystery, and I never quite knew what would come next., but imagined he would always have some fantastic story to tell. Either about the people he had met(many of whom are here today) or the faraway places he had fallen in love with, especially his beloved Hong Kong. It always boggled my mind to watch him carry on in fluid Cantonese when I barely got by in French 2. In fact, so long a shadow was cast by David that I learned in early High School to steer my life in a completely opposite direction, to find my own interest far away from his, lest my own flame never cast a shadow of it's own.
You see, my brother, David is without question, the most complicated person I have ever known. He spiritual but not religious. He had a scientific mind but was constantly on a quest for answers to questions he knew logically he could never find. He loved Jimmy Buffet and cut his teeth to John Denver(Don't tell) but was far more passionate about the Stones and absolutely ravenous about Snoop Dog. He was both David and "Fletch" and as noted at his wedding's rehearsal dinner the two were completely different. He was both UVA prep and Hong Kong Hip Hop. His life was full of trials and pain, but, in 42 years, I never once heard him whine or complain.
David was sometime Bacchus and sometimes Socrates, but he was in all ways a traveler. Whether on a spiritual, intellectual or physical journey David was happiest when in motion. His stamina and appetite for all thing that life brought him were legendary. Most of all, David loved to laugh. If a joke was really good his laugh would be accompanied by the now famous "Fletcher hand rub". He was childlike in his enthusiasm( and if truth be told, even as an adult he still got up at the crack of dawn when he came home for Christmas to see what Santa had brought him).
It is somewhat amusing to me that in the last photograph ever taken of us ( a picture of David meeting our son Mac for the first time), I noticed that David was much taller than me. I looked at the photograph more closely, thinking, competitively,"David can't possibly be that much taller". Then it hit me. He was standing on his toes. He had that sparkle in his eye and that Fletcher grin on his face. It was an old one-upmanship trick of ours, but in the excitement and the grand moment of introducing my son to his uncle for the first time, I had been off my game and quite literally, not on my toes. So now, and for eternity David will be taller than me... and it will always make me smile.(the picture is at the top of the page)
I close with this:
Dearest David,
It seems the old adage may be true that " a flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long" , but others carry the flame that you ignited. You go now on a journey where I cannot follow. Know, however that a huge piece of my heart goes with you. I will celebrate your life in all things and tell stories about you to my children, family and friends until I draw my last breath.
My Eulogy to David
So, as you gathered from Richard's elegant words, the Fletcher's were a competitive family. The stories could go on and on about the battles on the tennis courts, basketball court and even the kitchen table where games like Risk and Bat Gammon became quite tense. With that being said, put this picture in your mind... We grew up across the street from the school we attended, Charlotte Latin, and walked most days. At 7:45each morning mom would shoo us out the door and appropriately tell us to be good and walk together. Yeah, yeah, we would mumble and out the door we would go. David,14, Richard,12 and me 10(Chris was still in pre-school) would begin our 7 minute trek to school. The minute we stepped foot on the driveway, the race would begin. Someone, inevitably, would try to walk faster than the others. Then the others would join in, all of us breaking a sweat, in the attempt not to be the last. Now David, he never had that worry. He would smirk as he briskly walked ahead of us and every once and I while looking back with the Fletcher grin, exclaiming "Run, Run Run"... I would sulk in my chair when I got there in defeat, while David, I am sure, would enter his classroom completely satisfied.
Someone asked me the other day which brother I was closest to. As I stand here in front of you , I can assure you that was one area in life we were not competitive with. We loved together, we hurt together, we laughed together. I am a better wife, mother and friend because of my brothers. They have each played a monumental role in my life and I am so fortunate to be loved equally by each of them.
I can so easily picture him now. Newly 16, driving his red prelude, golden blond curls and tan skin, blaring either the Stones or Buffet in the tape player. He would be carting me, a very scrawny and awkward, 12 year old around staring in in admiration. "Man, he is so cool, I would think to myself". Later in life, tan gone, curls cut, and he would come relive some of his ferrarri driving experiences, or share his Hong Kong adventures, still, in awe, I would think, "Man he is so cool".
When I found out about Fletcher Barnhardt and Whites 40th reunion, the boys and I hopped in the car and drove down to spend a couple of days with him. For the first time in 3 years David, Richard, Chris and myself spent an amazing evening together, recapturing moments of history. As the evening came to a close, I believe we all had the feeling that we did not want it to end. It was a night of perfection. From there David followed me home to Asheville to spend time with our family. He spent 6 incredible days with us, sharing every activity and soaking in as much time as he could with us. At night we would sit on the back porch relaxed and exhausted from the days activities and engage in conversation as deep as politics and religion or as light as the boys sporting events that day.
July 30th I drove David to the airport. As I got out of the car and embraced him, he simply said, "Cathy Lou, I love you." I drove away from him that day with tears in my eyes knowing that the time spent with him was priceless and unforgettable. I also knew it was a gift.
So, in this moment, I visualize David running down Providence Road, looking back at us and grinning infectiously. He won. He won in life. He lived it large, he lived it happy...And with that smile he is quoting the song we heard earlier,
Cathy Lou,
Some of it's magic
Some of it's tragic
But I had a good life all the way...
