My younger brother died of a massive heart attack on November 11, 2019. He was 55. He left two beautiful daughters before they graduated from college. He never got to hold a grandchild. He never got to visit my farm (a trip planned for this coming June).
Perhaps he lived faster than I did. He was about two years younger than me but started talking before I did. Where I was always painfully shy, he was outgoing and knew everyone in the neighborhood. His exuberance could be overwhelming at times, but also uplifting.

As we come from a large family and live far apart, we don’t often get together. John managed to gather most of us in one place this November.

My brothers, mom and younger sister got together to move him out of his house, a project his daughters didn’t need to deal with on their own…during midterms no less. Sifting through his possessions was a great way to touch his life and process his d… — My brothers, mom and younger sister got together to move him out of his house, a project his daughters didn’t need to deal with on their own…during midterms no less. Sifting through his possessions was a great way to touch his life and process his death.

Aunt Harriette lived to be 98 and prepared well for death. She gave away almost all her possessions well before she died. John prepared not at all. It took almost five days to clear out his house, having his girls take what they wanted, donating what we could, and letting neighbors sift through what was left. I look around my own home and hope that if I die suddenly, those who clean up after me simply have a very large bonfire. Or maybe spread all my unused fleeces and the piles of books in the gardens, where they can gently melt into the soil.
That is, unless someone wants to spin those fleeces or read those books. Please eat the elderberry jelly. It’s wicked good.
I did get some router bits from John, as no one else wanted them and they have no great resale value. I will think of my brother when I am using them to make furniture or cabinets. I can already feel him getting antsy, fearing I will make mistakes he could have prevented, given he would always do impeccable research before starting any project. I’m more of a “learn as you go” kind of girl. He had better equipment than me. I have used my tools more than him. We both love making things with our hands.

He always lived where it was warm. We were both born in a desert. I’m convinced that living where it snows is good for the body and soul. I couldn’t convince him to try it. Now it’s too late.

I share many of the same traits as my brother, but also am a very different person. I wish I could have conferred on him some of the beauty and peace I and Michael work hard to achieve on our farm. I will spread some of his ashes when I plant tomatoes in the springtime. In that way, he will become part of this land and will nourish us with his life and his death.