I note here the death of my eldest brother, Kirk. A research scientist in the field of photoacoustic infrared spectroscopy, Kirk was overtaken mid-stride late last May by an aggressive brain tumor. They ran side by side for a while, but the tumor was an ill-mannered competitor without the capacity to appreciate Kirk’s steady, fair-minded pacifism. Like so many of us, the tumor had to win. And so, two days ago, during the quiet early morning hours of the fourth day of April, my brother drifted off peacefully in his sleep, leaving the road clear for the rest of us, especially those who know that violence and war are not the way, and can never be the way, to respond to the miraculous good fortune of being present in this world. Kirk was seventy-five. Like thousands of others, rather than fight and kill in the senseless war of his generation, he moved to Canada in 1970. It was a simple act. The aggressive tumor of U.S. politics and policy at the time considered him a fugitive. Today the tumor rages on, and is so pervasive in daily life that millions and millions of people think its presence normal.
Solid. Liquid. Gas. A note beside his chemistry set:
It works! Invisible at last!
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Categories: Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet