Kay has met all of my family, including cousins, east of the Mississippi River but my brother Pat and his wife Teresa live in Arizona and have made it clear they will not return to the south. Having said that, the only way to see Pat and Tee was to go to Arizona.
Pat and I talk on the phone every now and then but the last time we saw each other was about 2010. I'm the proverbial first born, the oldest of the family, Pat holds a close number two position being fifteen months younger than me. Growing up we were inseparable so much so that we were treated more like twins, we got the same gifts for Christmas and often wore the same cloths. Where one of went the other was not far behind.
Our parents named us Mike and Pat and those are the names we have gone by our entire lives but a few years ago I found out there was a time when we were known as Frank and Jesse. According to our cousin Beverly, when all three of us were little more than toddlers we lived in Gallatin, Tn. and we spent a lot of time playing together. Beverly says that her grandfather would see us running over to play and would say "here comes Frank and Jesse" which was a play on the notorious outlaws known as the James gang of the old west. Actually, I think his reference was more in line with the mischief we got into at such an early age, at any rate I kinda like it and even Pat seemed to get a kick out of it last
Sometime in our teenage years our paths started to wander off in different directions, our meetings became short and less often especially in the years we spent in the Navy. When we returned home we became somewhat estranged and didn't see as much of each other, we didn't realize for many years that mom had a big part in that, she liked to keep things stirred up among us kids.
Back in 2010 Pat and his wife Teresa were living in South Carolina when they got the itch to explore the west. Pat called up one day and said he was coming through town and wanted to stop for a visit, we reconnected then and have kept in touch since but only via phone calls and Christmas cards. So when Kay brought up the subject, we made plans. Turns out that Amtrak has a train to Arizona so to try something new we spent three days riding the 1800 miles to Tuscon.
Having not seen Pat in a few years I didn't really know what to expect. I remember the last time I saw him he was a little heavier and had a bit of grey in his hair. I was pleasantly surprised to see he had lost some weight and his hair had turned white, on the opposite side of the equation I have gained weight and my hair is certainly grey. I turn 75 in another six weeks or so and Pat will turn 74 in August so we both move a little slower and groan a lot more when we move but on the plus side - I'm still taller. I have been told I favor my father or at least his side of the family, on the other hand Pat favors mom's side of the family with a strong resemblance to grandpa even to having the stub of a cigar sticking in one side of his mouth.
We spent a good deal of time reminiscing as our wives listened, we all laughed and in the end I didn't want to go. Three days is not enough time to catch up on the years we missed out on but three days was all we had and now we have another memory to look back on and for three days Frank and Jesse rode together again.
Pat and Teresa Have made a beautiful home for themselves, the walls of the house are a tribute to their artistry, they both are artist in several fields. Pat presently enjoys working with beads in the style of the Native Americans of the southwest. Teresa works in stained glass and mosaics, her mosaic angels are beautiful, all of their work is beautiful.
I joke about being the oldest and having gotten all of the good genes from our parents and how I have decided to be like our Uncle Paul and live well into my 90's. Well it could happen but the reality is that all of us are getting older and I often find myself wondering if the last time I saw one of my siblings will it be the last time, will the last time I talked to them be the last time. It still weighs heavy on me that I was the last person to talk to my brother Ronnie just an hour or two before he died and he was the youngest of us. Will I live into my 90's like Uncle Paul ? I really don't know but I don't want there to be any regrets.
The night before we left I thought about what I would say to Pat when we parted, I ran several scenarios over and over in my head but when we got to the station all I could do was shake his hand and tell him to take care. I love my brother Pat, my brother Clint and sister Vickie, I don't know when or if we will see each other again so they will have to read this to know I do love them.
No comments:
Post a Comment