TWO BROTHERS

 

 

There were two brothers. There were no others. An older brother and a younger brother – and okay – a mom and a dad – and grandparents, and neighbors and friends – but this story is mainly about two brothers. Such combinations exist in real life and in story. Like, “Once upon a time there were two sisters ….”  but this story is about two brothers.

 

The older brother never really noticed the younger brother. They were together in the same house – and on the same couch at times – and at the same table – and in the same car at times – but the older brother never acknowledged his younger brother. The younger brother was like the battery in a car – never really noticed until it dies.

 

In this story everyone loved the older brother. He would do anything for you – like you could call him up to pick up something on his way home from school or his job at a restaurant where he worked as a bus boy or “dish picker upper”. He’d get it.  Never complained. At their house, he emptied the dish washer and took out the garbage without anyone having to ask him to. He was a good kid. Yet, there was one person he never did anything for. It was his younger brother.

 

The older brother would pat the dog – talk to his dad or mom – sometimes late at night – sometimes with his mom – sometimes with his dad – just sitting there at the kitchen table – doing nothing but talking and laughing. The older brother would drop in and see his grandparents – who lived in the next town - but he never noticed - that he never noticed - his younger brother.

 

These things happen. We can be blind – without knowing we’re blind – when it comes to certain people – sometimes someone in our own home - whom we just don’t notice or interact with in any big way – as was what was happening in this story.

 

The younger brother was also very friendly – not as extraverted as his brother – but he was always there – doing younger brother stuff – and he kept on trying to reach out to his older brother.  He’d say, “Hello” and “Hi” and this and that, but no – there really was no recognition ever. They didn’t fight and wrestle as most brothers do. They just lived there in the same house – an older brother never really noticing a younger brother.

 

Now this was strange – subtle – and unfortunate. And nobody really noticed it – except the younger brother.  It wasn’t a dramatic “dissing” or dismissal or hatred of his younger brother. It was as this story unfolds  – someone just not nothing – someone else - too bad. 

 

Then something really sad and bad happened. The younger brother, Joshua, (did I tell you his name yet?), died at the age of 15. He was on his bike coming home from a baseball game – and a car – filled with teenagers ran a red light –  swerved to miss another car – and hit and killed the younger brother. The 18 year old driver had been drinking – along with the 4 other kids in the car as well.

 

It was only then that the older brother, Jack, really realized he had a younger brother. The funeral was very painful. The next two weeks, two months, without their second son – without a younger brother – would prove to be a very tough time – for mom and dad and the older brother – as well as grandparents, neighbors, teachers, coaches, classmates and friends.

 

One weekend - the older brother was at home - alone.  Mom and dad had a college class reunion in Wisconsin. That’s where they met 24 years ago. Now mom and dad were hesitant to leave the older brother home alone – now their only son – but he said, “Mom, Dad, go. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing your old friends. So please go. You two need to get out of the house for a weekend. Josh’s death is still weighing heavy on all of us. It’s been tough, really tough, so take a break. Get away. And relax about me.  I’m a senior in high school now – and next year I’ll be in college – and I’ll be okay. Relax. I won’t have any wild parties and this and that.”

 

So with that guarantee, and the trust they had in their son, Jack, mom and dad headed to the airport and a trip back to Wisconsin – for their 20^th college class reunion – and a four day weekend. 

 

Saturday morning the older brother went by his younger brother’s room. The door was closed. It had been that way since his death. Jack had gone by that door hundreds of times – but this time something hit him to go in and look around.

 

When nobody’s around, sometimes some people, look around.

 

They had always had separate rooms. Dad had a great job and then when they started school mom also got a great job. Money was no problem – so they had a pretty big house – and both boys always had their own rooms.

 

Nobody had gone into his room till now – except mom and dad when they went in there and into his closet to get his dark blue suit and a light blue shirt and a few other things for the funeral.  That was it.

 

The room had a strange feeling. Obviously ….

 

Jack stood at the door and scanned the semi-darkness. Then he went over to the window and pulled the curtains open. He opened up the window half way.  It was a crisp, clear day outside.

 

He turned and looked around the room. Everything was clean and neat. He saw his brother’s football posters. Joshua was a Giants’ fan – so there were all the Giants  – in a big poster picture on his bedroom wall. Then surprise – Jack saw a picture of himself on a cork board above his brother’s computer. There he was in his Eagles jersey. Interesting.  He scratched his head.  He couldn’t believe it. His younger brother had a picture of him the older brother right there at his desk above his computer. He had never noticed it till that moment.

 

“Wow!” he whispered – a loud “Wow!”

 

Next he sat down and turned on his brother’s computer. Then when he came to the password – he realized this was as far as he could go.  He shut off the computer and went downstairs – wondering what he was going to do for the day. He figured he’d probably call a few friends and do something interesting.

 

As he sat there in the kitchen - the word “hacker” hit him. He got up immediately and went back upstairs to his brother’s computer. He figured he could hack his way into his brother’s computer – if he could figure out his password.

 

He tried his brother’s first name first: Joshua. Nope - no luck. Then his second name: Dylan. Nope. Then JD. Nope. Then Eli – then Eli Manning. Then Eli Manning 10. Nope. He tried two dozen more possible passwords. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. None worked.

 

He stayed at it for another half-hour. No luck.

He went downstairs for lunch – but quickly went back upstairs with a sandwich. 12 o’clock. 1 o’clock…. No luck – with getting a password.

It became an obsession. Then out of sheer frustration he typed in his own name and surprise the computer opened. He was his brother’s password. Strange. Very strange. Interesting.

 

And very nervously – with guilt – the guilt one feels when one is eavesdropping on other person’s conversations – or checking other people’s stuff. It was a basic human “No! No!” that hit him.  He found himself pausing and then asking himself, “Should I be doing this?”

 

Then he saw it – a file – a document – called, “Two Brothers.”

 

He opened it up and started reading it. He wondered what it was. An essay – a story – maybe something for school…?  He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know.

 

He was hearing as he read his brother’s words – a voice from the dead – a voice from almost three or six  months ago.

 

He read:

 

Two Brothers…. Their names were Jack and Joshua – ages 17 and 15…. They got along with each other all through the years, but neither really knew the other.

 

Me? I’m the younger brother – in a family of four – mom, dad, Jack and myself.

 

I’m the younger brother – always have been – always will be.

 

We were at church two weeks ago and the Sunday gospel story was about two brothers: a younger brother and an older brother. I listened up – because that’s us – and it seems that the two brothers never talked to each other. That’s us.

 

I wonder if the older brother at the end of Jesus’ story ever came into the house at his father’s insistence – and began talking to his brother and welcoming him home.

 

I wonder if we brothers will ever really talk to each other – like after Jack comes home from college – for the summer – talking  – like I see dad and his brother talking big time when they see each other at Thanksgiving.

 

We were at church, and the priest in his sermon talked about forgiveness – and how it must kill fathers when their sons are separated – and not on speaking terms with each other. I sat there in church wondering what the older brother thought about after his younger brother left home and was away.  In the story Jesus told -  we find out what the older brother thought - the younger brother was doing. I wonder how he knew. This was way before cell phones and all that.  I wonder what my older brother Jack thinks about me. So many times it seems like probably nothing. It seems he always behaves as if  he’s an only child. I wonder if that is part of being the first child or what have you. I don’t know.

 

Jack stopped at that – and began crying – crying – all alone in that big house that Saturday afternoon.

 

He stood up and walked around. He went downstairs. Then he came back upstairs again. He read some more from his brother’s essay or story or whatever these words on his computer were.

 

He read:

 

Last Sunday we were at Mass again and the gospel story was about a rich man who walked by a poor guy named Lazarus every day. He never noticed him – and the poor guy was always starving and wished he had food from the rich man’s table – but nobody ever gave him anything. The dogs licked his sores – but there’s something missing in life – if all you can relate to is dogs. We need to talk.

 

Jesus said that both died. One went to heaven and the other one went to hell.

 

The rich guy in hell finally noticed Lazarus up there in heaven and asked Abraham to have Lazarus dip the tip of his finger in water – and come down to hell and touch and cool his lips. And Abraham said, “No can do. It doesn’t work that way.”

 

Jack then read these words in Joshua’s computer essay,

 

“Well Jack and I have this gulf between us – and it feels like hell at times – but please God – as we get older we’ll spend more time noticing each other. That would be heaven here on earth.”

 

Tears. Tears. Tears. Sadness. And Jack then typed into his brother’s computer – into his brother’s document, “Joshua. I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Please forgive me. God forgive us. I hope it’s not too late.”

 

Then Jack stood up and stretched. “Now what,” he thought. “Now what?” He leaned down into the computer again. He hit “Save!” and then turned off his brother’s computer.

 

He went downstairs and went outside for a walk – a long walk. It was autumn and the weather outside was getting cooler – perfect for a walk. He walked and wondered, “Do I tell mom and dad about this?”

 

And the answer was resounding. It was an obvious, “Yes. That’s the very sin and mistake I made about Joshua – this not talking to each other – this not noticing each other enough.”

 

And when his parents came home from their class reunion in Wisconsin, Jack told his mom and dad about what happened – and they talked and talked – without even mentioning how great the class reunion was – and that moment - that experienced - changed their lives as a family for the rest of their lives – for good. Amen.