You are such a remarkable person, faithfool.
You couldn’t have a professional writer do more justice to your feelings as you have laid them out for us. He was a very lucky person to have a sister like you.
I never have the words to offer the sympathy that I feel; be strong and I’m sure many will be there for you when you need a little help. I know I will, just ask.
I am so sorry for your loss. Nothing I can say will make the pain any less - but know that you are in my thoughts.
Sending supporting thoughts your way.
I’m very sorry for your loss. Your brother is ten days older than me.
Everybody, bless you all and your wonderful words. I can’t express how much they help. And before I get started once again on another of my trips down Memory Lane, I’d like to post his obituary and picture (I have another one taken in the hospital early on, but I don’t know how to post such things – urgh). Here’s the link:
I just don’t know what to think about his listed birthday though… he only now turned 45, despite what they say. Anyway, I guess at the moment that’s not very important and we should be thrilled it came out that good, considering how much they charge you for anything beyond the basics. But I’ve got to ask, wasn’t he a cutie? He honestly could befriend a tree stump and make them a loyal family member for life. 
Now that’s done, I’ve got more to share. I hope everyone really does like them and they’re not off-putting at all. Plus, I know at some point soon I’ll begin to run out and that makes me terribly afraid. Until then, if you great folks can just keep allowing me to wander about with my brother, I’ll appreciate that forever.
*He was a rebel ( !! ) and I didn’t even see it! In my very sheltered universe, I had no idea how much guts it took to buck my mother and try pot! Or want to be so independent that he was willing to live out of his car until he could get up on his feet! And knowing how my other step-sibling was, to walk a line between testing boundaries / finding one’s self and ending up on a darker side. He managed too. It wasn’t pretty, nor did he accomplish things ‘well,’ but he got there just the same and, as such, I’ve always had more respect for the more Blue Collar approach to life that many of us (myself included) must travail. All this coming from our oh-so-strict-fundamentalist (when it suited my mother) home. Yeah, I’m sure you can see he was almost my version (even though I didn’t know it!) of Marlon Brando in The Wild One. 
*Someone in the church we attended back then, claimed he was making a mistake by joining the army. He was, according to them, abandoning God. :rolleyes: Finally, it was this that allowed me to defend him, possibly for the very first time. It felt so good and I was incredibly proud him. Of course, the uniform only served to make him look dorkier. 
But the opportunity, I wish I’d had it earlier and often. If nothing else, he always tried so hard and though there was more than a bit of his share of failure, he always kept forging ahead at something else. He personified being called a “trooper.”
*Dating girls from the youth group. Dating girls from the ball team. Dating TWO GIRLS AT ONCE, who knew each other and the situation, and yet it was all perfectly acceptable to them. Nothing I’d ever expect from an anti-hunk. Although dude, how studdlyish was that!? :eek: 
Dating, dating, dating, dating! Whew! I guess he was quite the ladies’ man after all, regardless of him being more goofy than anything else. Or something other that sisters aren’t privy to. Although not classically handsome, he sure could charm anyone with that big ol’ grin and crinkling eyes. And affable, the dude was always that in spades.
I only have a couple more (oh no, no, no!), but I’ll stop there for the moment because it’s making me cry. Again, thank you everyone. I hope to feel up to addressing you all more properly when I can. Just know that I think you people are the best in the world. Upon further ado…
Love to each of you,
~Kemi
P.S. How the hell does one get used to the correct verb tense? I feel like I’m all over the freakin’ place between is / was and the like. On the other hand, I don’t know if I ever want to get used to that the right way.
Last ones, because I’ll be gone now for several days and I’m already way past feeling zapped. Thank you again everyone for your kindness and consideration. This is what’s been getting me through.
*Exchanging gifts out at my parents’ trailer at the lake. The smaller kids running amok, everyone eating home cooking and you trying to figure out what kind of stuff your little sister likes for whatever gift giving occasion we were ringing in. Realistically, I’m not sure that sour apple lime green glitter lip gloss is it for me, but I appreciated the effort just the same. I also liked the giant stuffed bunny. Zen did too, as he tried to devour him whole. :o I only wish I’d seen you more in your dad-like habitat; fishing, playing with the dogs and riding in the golf cart. Overall excellence bar none.
*And thank you David for being there for dad in all his recent health troubles. For attempting, to the very best of your ability, to support me through my never ending struggles with mental problems. I know it wasn’t remotely easy, but you spent many hours on the phone between us and in my case, as someone who isolates when the universe upends, I longed to hear your voice and relish your happy nature. It’s still a balm for my soul. I bet our father would say the same thing. You nailed it and came through, in the best possible big brother / son sorta way.
And the absolute best for me, I’ve saved for last…
*That entire day, in late October of '05, that you stayed with me to complete the haunted house I was doing. Hanging sheets together and ragging on each other while telling secrets, made one of the few more blessed moments of mine in the past decade absolutely perfect. I’m pretty sure you even bought me a lunch in there too, one with sweet potato french fries. You really did work hard and its success was largely due in part to your efforts. It was all magical. In a million lifetimes, I could never show my gratitude enough to say you honored my biggest fetish, my beyond-the-moon-and-back LOVE for Halloween and you didn’t make fun that time or drag your feet around all the work to be done. As a matter of fact, you busted your butt, didn’t once complain and made the whole experience perfect. Thank you, thank you, and thank you some more brother.
I suppose I’ll wrap it up with that. There’s too much I wasn’t there for, like his various graduation ceremonies, their wedding and, so very sadly, too much more. If I had it to do over again, I’d never miss a step. But, now I do have this (and even more specially the last year) and my heart will never be able to completely break. You’ll be my Super Glue. I’m glad you were you to the fullest. You’ve done wonderfully with your career, your excellent children, devoted family and loyal friends, but mostly with yourself. Simply put, it would be good to aspire to be like the Constable and for that, there’s now a new star looking down from the stratosphere.
I love you Dave. Always.
I'd also like to make an extra note to my friends here that have become my lifelines elsewhere. To Daniel, Elizabeth, Vivien and Doug, you have my deepest heartfelt admiration and adoration for the beautiful people that you are. Thank you for continually saving me. I love y'all very much. As for my other fellow Dopers, I'll say until the end of time how unique you are and that I'm blessed by you.
Peace,
~Kemi
P.S. By the way brother, I never got to tell you how much I relished the fact you almost rolled over my mother in the VW van (backwards, as we tried to bounce her along out of harm's way, with her ball uniform getting muddier as we went) in the smushy earth. Too hilarious for words, my man, just too much friggin' the bomb!::: Saluting Dave :::
…and wishing Kemi strength and peace. Your brother sounds like a great man.
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. Your brother sounds wonderful. It has to hurt to lose someone like that.
He’s my same age. I was born in '61, but my birthday isn’t until October. We would have been the same year in school. 
My father died February 25, 2000. Just yesterday I referred to him in the present tense in a post.
Those are some wonderful memories. He sounds like a man who was fully engaged with life, who truly made the best of it.
I wanted to update those who posted here, and might be just reading along at home, on the funeral. It was so beautiful, and an inspiration to behold, that I felt I must share this too before I go back to my ruminating in silence. But first, I’d like to offer a million thanks over again. You all have been absolutely wonderful. Now to how everything went…
I’ve never been to anything dealing with the military, so this all may be standard, but we had the Color Guard (In these instances, is capitalization correct? Regardless, I suppose I’ll go with it and someone please correct me if I’m wrong.) come in from Houston, all manner of Law Enforcement (other constables, entire police forces [of small towns, of course], EMTs, fire fighters) and even our State Representative (that I went to high school with) from Austin. The amount of vehicles seemed devastating to me; all those multi-colored lights and insignias and pomp and circumstance. I was in awe. And for someone who did good to hold down a job before he finally came into his own there towards the last, say, quarter of his life, I know David would’ve been equally amazed. I wish someone had gotten it on video. Although I heard part of it was on the Tyler news, we couldn’t find any evidence of that afterwards.
There was lots of flowers and plants, many from local business. That stunned me. I figured he might’ve been vital to a donut shop or pizzeria, but places like the chain grocery store (Brookeshire’s, if I may give them their compliments) even supported the family with quite a bit of food. Then others, like Habit For Humanity, are helping towards their home. There’s also been a charity set up for my sister-in-law and the kids. For those who’ve emailed me about that, I’ve got further information, if anyone’s still interested. Just please holler again. I’m so deluged at this point that I’m not certain I’ll ever crawl out. I appreciate everyone’s patience with me. Thank you.
The dual (Baptist and non-denominational) was chalk full of adorable anecdotes and the musings of his loved ones was inspiring. So many grown men with tears streaming down their faces and so many young men (like my nephews) growing up before our eyes as they read their goodbyes. Plenty of Elvis was sung. :o The memorial video was not nearly long enough and I almost lost it when surprised by a picture of me giving him a kiss at his farewell party (he was off to the Army). He looked so innocent, yet before they closed the casket, he spoke of dignity and duty and an ever-so-slight mischievous grin. I’m so glad that was there to forever rest in my heart. I made some different kinds of handmade ribbons to go with the programs (?) and I hope that others took a bit of comfort from wearing “I Love David” (with his picture) around. His step-sister said it was like having him there and showing him things throughout the day, like well his mom held up. At least, that’s what she said. I’m sure she could’ve just been being nice though. Never the less, I was heartened by her kind words.
The handing over of the flag (there was two – what’s the protocol on that anyway? – one from the county court house over which he served) left all in attendance breathless. A lone female Guard member played taps on a bugle. The final wrap-up, I presume, was typical, until it came time for them to do the call out over the radio dispatch system (if I’m saying all this right, I’m sure I’m paraphrasing terribly). The loud speaker came on and the call went out for David’s number; 453. An answer was given for him and then concluded with 10-7, which I’m told means “Out of service.” and “Gone home.” Obviously, silence ensued as there was one last crackle and a voice intoning “Forever.” I don’t know if my heart can ever un-clench from that. It was as perfect as it could be.
We all came together later at his best friends’ house and re-hashed good times and truisms only particular to him. It was befitting, but so saddening that I couldn’t sleep that evening. I miss him so much that I can’t stand it and every time the phone rings (even though he didn’t call that often), I think it might be him. He smiles at me from my computer and I have his words now tattooed on my wrist, in his handwriting. I’m glad it will always give me a chance to talk about him, but I’d much rather have him here to razz instead.
That covers it, I think. You all have been my shoulder to lean on and my ear to listen. I couldn’t ever thank each of you enough, but know that I’ll always have you a special place in my heart. I love you guys. And brother, I love you too.
Your friend,
~Kemi