To this day, I refuse to eat mayonnaise because of a disgusting story David told me when we were in grade school. He turned his eyelids inside out because he knew it bothered me. He teased me continually. For my looks: my nose, my figure, my scent, my oddball interests... I’m still defensive about my interests in mystical philosophies, meditation, and in fantasy & science fiction literature because of the way he teased me about them.
Most of my memories of Dave are from childhood through grade school. We grew apart in later years. He got involved with sports in high school and made a lot of friends outside the family. I lived mostly in the books I loved reading, and while I made a few friends and was respected in the art room, I was never as out-going as he was and I went away to college while he was still in high school.
When we were very young, Dave, and I, and our sister Melanie were often the closest or only play-mates available for each other. Around the neighborhood we’d play ‘Witch’s Pies’ and tag (Frozen Tag, Television Tag, etc) and Dodge Ball. We’d play Parcheesi and Hearts at home – often while sprawled out on the carpet in front of the television. We’d watch the Little Rascals, The Bowery Boys and Saturday morning cartoons together, and Mel Jass’s Epic Theater screenings of Hercules movies...
We’d make up our own games – imagining the neighborhood as an undersea world in which we swam, or the shrubberies of a vacant lot would become the hallways of a brambly castle. A red-striped curtain became the setting for a hospital drama we called ‘Peebee and the Blood Machine.’ I had a black dress - patterned with tiny strawberries, but it was black, so I became the witch of a chasing game we called ‘Witchita.’ We involved other neighborhood children in our games when at home, and involved our cousins when spending summers at the family cabin on Jewett Lake.
I was nineteen months older than David and, doubtless, I carried myself with an unconscious air of my own superiority. I was always ahead of him – a little bigger and stronger from the start, a year ahead of him in school: first to read and write, first to learn my math, etc. And he was always determined to prove himself at least as capable.
Dave and I were always competitive. We’d compete for the biggest cookie or brownie, see who could catch the most sunnies while fishing off our grandfather’s sailboat, and we’d tussle in hand-to-hand combat. Until he was about twelve and one day he hit me a little too hard, hurting me more than expected, and I went berserker on him – determined to strangle him by the neck until dead, if not strong enough to actually do much damage. I was frightened by my own loss of control, and for his part, he backed off when it came to picking on me physically.
His competitive spirit likely stood him in good stead when it came to succeeding in his chosen career. (It probably didn’t help Dave’s ego that I did better than he did on the LSATs and later dropped out of law school – as if I didn’t value something he saw as especially important.)
I didn’t like the conflict. I hadn’t had to try as hard as Dave did, and in fact it took me some time to grow out of my unconscious assumption of superiority in academic matters – it took getting involved in a social group founded by nerds, where I met many people more gifted than myself, but did find some appreciation for my oddball interests and my artistic capability.
Dave excelled as a lawyer. I even called on him for advice when I was in a situation where I needed to sue a former landlord, and he came to my rescue a couple times when my financially very insecure career as an artist wasn’t panning out and I needed help to come up with rent. His legal expertise came in handy for all of his siblings when it came to settling the estate of our Uncle Jim.
In recent years we took to playing ‘Words With Friends’ together – he managed to beat me an average of two games out of three, which I attribute to his having honed his competitive edge over the years, while I often play just for the fun of it, ignoring the scores, and when playing Scrabble live, will take on more of a teaching role for those who need an assist.
David chose well in his wife, Mary, who brought gentler and kinder qualities to their marriage, and he grew to become a much more considerate man and father than he’d been as a kid brother. I was proud of him.
It's very much to Dave's credit, the way he grew and changed as an adult. As he recorded in his first-born daughter Natalie’s baby book, he underwent a major change in his outlook with fatherhood. I saw it when I first saw a photo of him with his new baby. The change was visible, revealing a caring and gentle side to his nature that I had not seen in him before. At the time, I remarked to myself that my pestiferous brother had turned into a human being. Now I am only sorry that I didn't get the chance to better know that new improved version of my kid brother.
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