The man in the picture on the left, that's my brother. His name is Jason. Growing up, he was one of like 7 Jason's in his class. And to my recollection, every single one of them was more hellion than angel. My brother was by no means the exception to the rule. In fact, in many ways, I consider him the leader of the pack. Jason is 2 years younger than I am. And as we were growing up, I figure we had a pretty good relationship. We weren't an AT&T commercial by any means, but we had fun together. He was a master at the no touch game - not only in skill but in actual duration of the game. He usually played about 20 minutes longer than I wanted to. And he was able to put his finger in a spot just on the very edge of peripheral vision so that you'd turn your head to see what was there and JAB!!! you'd run right into his finger. He'd laugh and then punch the hell out of your arm. And me, feeling like an utter fool for getting suckered in, would hide my embarrassment by telling on him for hitting. It's what girls do really - not fair, but true.
On those days when we were too young to go outside and play in the neighborhood when mom was gone, but we were too bored to watch tv (it was before cable / satellite and way before video games) we played the no trip game. In this game, one of us would like on the floor on a mattress or blanket. The other would walk around the perimeter of the mattress. The objective was to trip the person walking. At my advanced age, the details are a bit vague, but I do remember the game. We'd also play living room baseball. The bases were the couch, the corner of the tv, and the woodstove (not in that order). The person who was at bat had to "run" the bases in an upright position on his/her knees. The person who was in the field, could crawl on all fours to get the ball. This was only fair as the batter would always aim the ball down the hallway. We would often have a ghost on every single base. I don't remember getting carpet burns at all.
When he was in high school, Jason was beginning to develop his adventurous spirit. He jumped off the Lake Barkley Bridge. The first time he said he was sure his balls were shoved up his body to his throat. But he held onto them better the second time. THE SECOND TIME!!! I can not begin to fathom it, jumping twice. Later in his life, he packed up everything he owned and decided to move to Colorado. Just to leave and go. Of course the end of that trip resulted in his car being repossessed and having to file for bankruptcy - but financial consequences aside, there is a freedom and free-spiritedness to be admired in such an action. It is nothing that I think that I would ever want to do, but I admire and respect that trait in others. It's sort of the same admiration that I feel for people at a pentacostal church who are so moved by the spirit that they begin to dance, wave their arms and dance about. Though I don't feel the spirit in that way, I do admire the depth and breadth of their belief -- even if I don't covet it.
Jason has had his share of demons as well. And has battled them -- not always as successfully as I'd like; not always in the manner in which I'd prefer, but in his own way. It speaks greatly to the stubborness of his nature. Everyone in my family look to me and say - you always want to be right - it must be your way or no way. Me, I think that Jason's will to have his way and do his thing far out reaches my own. Mostly, I think that I'm quick to make a decision and put it out there for those who are humming and hawing about and asking "what do you want to do?" But I'm not inflexible -- not really -- not too bad? I don't know - it's not a very clear mirror for me there. But I don't believe that I've ever convinced Jason to think a different way, to change his course, or do something different. He will unfailingly give another person credit for their feelings, acknowledge their frustration or fear, and then continue on his merry way because that's what he wants to do. And the most amazing part is, that despite wanting to pinch his head, punch him, smack him, make him angry . . . he can do all of that and still we all just shake our head and go -- "well that's jason, what are we gonna do. We can't help but love him." He is the baby of the family - and has had more second chances, more special treats, more - more - more. And I'm not jealous of that, I dont' begrudge him. I guess I know he somehow needed more - just like I believe that he could be and would be MORE.
And this is the man, who when given the opportunity to meet and greet a three or four star general squeezed his hand as hard as he could while talking about some inane topic - just because he could and he thought it would be funny. And when I first saw the picture and was so proud, and sentimental, and so glad to see him looking so good - it just never even occurred to me that he would be doing anything like that -- and upon reading his comment -- I just shake my head, smile through my tears and think "Oh Jason."
I love him - and he is one of my heroes.
