Today, one of my hometown friends posted some pictures of my brother, George, that were taken in the early 1970’s. That would make George about 21 or 22. These pictures are precious to me because they are the only ones I’ve seen of my brother during this time and you can see what a handsome fellow he is. Only a few years in the future, George would be diagnosed with jaw cancer and have one of his jaws removed. Even after corrective surgery, his face never had the softness and shape that it had originally, so that makes these photos even more important to me and, I’m sure, to his four daughters.
I loved George fiercely. He was my closest sibling in age and he and I were very good friends until the day he died at age 54 after a second bout with cancer finally won. I remember the night he called and told me about the cancer. I went upstairs, crawled into my bed and pulled the covers over my head. All I could think about was that I wasn’t going to be able to live in this world without him. I felt unhinged by that news, and yet, over the next 18 months of his dying process, I watched my brother deal with his grief with such grace that I was truly in awe. I haven’t ever known another person to approach his/her impending death with such dignity though I know that it wasn’t an easy time for him. He said to me at one moment, “Len, dying is a lonely business.” All I could say was, “Yes, I imagine it is.”
George and John Carder
I see these pictures of my brother and they take me right back to our youth together before alcohol took ahold of him and held him down to the ground until he was 36. At that point, his wife, Sandra, my mother and I sat down with him and an intervention specialist and told him that if he didn’t choose to go into rehab and get sober, then he was going to lose all of us. We were done until he chose health over illness. He looked at Sandra and his little daughter, Leslie, and said, “Where do I go?” He went to rehab and never had another sip of alcohol for the rest of his life.
John Carder, Chuck Porter, and George
I still miss my brother with a vengeance. I miss having him to talk to about life. I miss having him to laugh with. I miss having him as a support. He is definitely an example of someone who was taken far too soon, at the prime of his life, just at a time when his family needed him and he needed them back. And yet, there is no stopping death when it comes calling. This was one of those moments when all of us in his family and his close friends faced a sense of true powerlessness. Surrender was the only answer in a moment like that – accepting what can’t be changed.
John Carder and Kenny Gatlin
So, thank you, Kenny Gatlin, for posting these pictures of my beloved brother. I am so happy to have some pre-cancer photos of George to show my children. He was so handsome and full of promise in those pictures. He died full of that same promise, but only after suffering along the way. Still, he loved his daughters with all of his heart as well as his wife, Sandra. That love created a purity in him that I have rarely seen in another human being. I often think George didn’t die so much as transcend; his suffering transformed into wisdom.
Kenny Gatlin’s Aunt and George
I am happy tonight just seeing these pictures. They remind just how much I can love someone, and still do love someone, whether he’s on this earth or somewhere I can’t quite imagine. Wherever he is, part of him remains solidly in my heart and mind, and I can almost reach out and touch him. That is the mystery of death: so far away and yet so close.
20 Minutes a Day 
So sad. I am sorry for your loss, Len. Pictures are precious but though they are only substitutes, they give comfort.
I lost my Mother going on three years. The void her absence has left behind cannot be filled.
Dear Tess, I am so sorry for your loss and the void that has come with it. It is hard to lose a mother, especially if you have become close friends. I am holding you close to my heart, my friend. You’re right about pictures. They DO bring comfort.
^-^
Beautiful tribute to your brother Len.
Thank you, Colleen.
I lost my best forever friend in April this year. John Wingate was very much like a brother to me, too. Only, I never had any biological siblings, only close friends who became siblings of choice. We never get over these losses of loved ones, and we miss them so much, because now we are so totally silenced by their deaths. It is much the same with all other deaths and losses of loved ones, human and pet.
Your photos are wonderful and your tribute to George and his wife Sandra, and his daughters is sweet. Thanks for sharing these.
sarai
“Siblings of choice.” That is a lovely phrase. I am so sorry for your recent loss, Sara. Thank you for your kind words about my tribute to George. I appreciate that very much.
I had a college class with George in the late 1980’s after his first cancer. He spoke with candor about the treatments and their affects. He was always a straight up guy and had such a dry, warm humor about things. I remember him with fondness.
Ah, thanks for letting me know that, Vicki! George did have such “a dry, warm humor.” That was one of his best qualities. I appreciate you writing and reminding me of that. Much thanks.
Len, I graduated with your brother and am now going thru treatments for colon cancer. Another classmate and dear friend, Susan Doan Griffin, shared this on Facebook, and you touched my heart with your awesome tribute to your brother. You are a very sweet sister and thanks for sharing your thoughts with the great pics!
Dear Darlene, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re having to go through colon cancer treatment. I’m sure this is a tough time for you. I am so glad that I “touched your heart” with my tribute to George. You are very sweet to write and let me know that. Thanks so much, and I am sending up a prayer for you right this minute!
I’m sorry Len that you didn’t see these photos till now….I posted them in 2011….that was a great tribute to George…I really miss those friends and times we spent together….I will look for more of those days gone passed…
Dear Kenny. I don’t know how I missed these pictures of George before this time. Still, I’m happy to have found them. I’m sure you really miss your good old buddies and those times gone by. Thank goodness for such great memories, eh? And such good friends. Hugs to you.