And miles to go before I sleep...

People always say that. Be careful what you wish for. Me and my never-ending movement. Wanting to travel. My discomfort with sitting still.

I was home less than 48 hours, after a sleepless red-eye, before embarking on another one. This one unscheduled. Unexpected. Unplanned.

This time I drove for nearly 8 hours, first West, and then North. More precisely, I was driven. There weren’t any flights left out of Raleigh-Durham. So there I was, on my fourth date, being driven across the country by a hell of a trooper of a man, back to Wisconsin. It was his idea to take me. While I was asleep, he realized we might have better luck getting a flight out of a larger airport and using his i-phone, he booked me a flight out of Washington D.C. A flight to Madison. For me and Bandit. He booked himself a ticket too, even though he couldn’t come along. He could get me through the airport, at least. What an era, where it takes a ticket to walk someone to a gate. He drove me through the night, back up to D.C. We slept for an hour or so, before repacking and heading to the airport. He helped me check in, and went through security with me. He bought me breakfast. And an extra yogurt for lunch. That’s what got me: the yogurt.

The rest, the willingness to drive across the country overnight, and booking flights, while all unbelievably generous and kind: all were dwarfed by the yogurt. He put it in a brown paper bag with a spoon and a napkin and zipped it into my bag. I just looked at it in wonder. He said he wanted to make sure I had food with me. He wanted to make sure I ate something later.

I told him he was setting the bar pretty high.

He said this was an exceptional circumstance.

Even so, Even so.

I haven’t posted about this on facebook or called many people, because this kind of news is hard to say out loud. The Navajo say that once you speak something you give it power, and I can understand Joan Didion here. There is some magical thinking involved. Perhaps if I don’t tell any of you, it won’t be real.

But it is.

It still is.

These things are irreversible. There won’t be a call informing me that this was all a misunderstanding. I know that, and still, I wait for it, convinced that I must have gotten confused.

By now you’re worried, and confused. Or you’ve already skipped ahead. I’m working up to it. Sharing these words. Making them real. Making them shared. It’s a lot to ask right now. It all gets caught in my throat. But telling people is part of the process and I have to do it somehow. You already know it is bad enough for a man who barely knows me to take me across the country. That’s called foreshadowing. It’s supposed to prepare you for the next part. Of course it never does. Not really.

My brother is dead.

Take another breath.

He shot himself.

So there it is.

I’m telling you here, semi-publicly so that you know. But I just can’t handle telling each of you. This is not how you’re supposed to find out, I know, but this is the best I can do right now. This thing is too big, and too hard. And because I can’t talk about it, I’m probably going to take a long time to call any of you. But I need you to know. And to tell each other, so I don’t have to. For now, I’m going to be making arrangements and supporting my family and trying to come to terms with it myself. I trust that you wonderful people will understand. You won’t take it personally. I know so many of you would answer my call at 3am if I needed you. So don’t worry, I know that you’re there.

The visitation will be Thursday night at 4:30. The funeral Friday at 10. I know that much. You can come to that. You can support me there. I will post details soon. It will be a scary thing to go alone to. You can make sure I’m not alone then. In the meantime, I’ll let you know if I need anything. I think we’re supposed to eat and we’re supposed to sleep and we’re supposed to cry. One of those is being pretty well covered. The others will hopefully come in time. I do have a yogurt on standby.

My parents’ address is 3117 Ashford Lane, Madison, WI 53713. I will be home for at least a week, or however long it takes to get everything in order. Probably a while.

So yes, you can come to the services. And you can know that I'm here again. And when I'm ready, you can take me out for a hell of a stiff drink.

Also, I’m going to be running a National Alliance on Mental Illness walk team again in the spring. When we’re ready, and organized, I will tell you. And this year, you can support my brother. You can support my family. Because some things are irreversible, but other things we still have an opportunity and a responsibility to try to change.

There is that.

In love-