"Hey, and by the way, you can take Joe off your list of business contacts," said my brother Carlos casually in the midst of a conversation about the family dinner that night.
"What do you mean," I asked.
"He died this morning," said Carlos with his usual tact.
"What?" I said, trying to make sense of things "Are you serious?"
Carlos was serious, but almost immediately the conversation returned to the family dinner. In my family, men dwell little on feelings of loss and much on ribs and related meat products. But, as we talked about the ribs for the family dinner and whether I would show up on time for once, I thought about Joe.
Joe (a pseudonym) was one of my brother's closest friends. He was a hell of a nice guy. I knew him as a client, but his relationship with my brother Carlos went back to the beginning of Carlos' career as a nurse. Joe was a mentor to him, but due to health concerns was unable to keep working.
I met Joe as a client referred by Carlos and was surprised to see that he was not only gay, but proudly and loudly so.
"Are you sure you're my brother's friend?" I was tempted to ask on many occasions. My brother, to say the least, isn't the world's most sensitive and reflective man. His nickname among my childhood friends was Hitler. He was proud of that nickname.
Joe, on the other hand, was almost completely without guile. He was a client that shared his feelings, fears and concerns. Sometimes he drove my staff to the point of madness with his continued questions and worries. But, in the end, we were able to end his worries with a complete victory in his case.
However, he would still call me afterwards from time to time with lingering concerns or worries.
But, now I guess he's off my list of contacts for good. He's off of Carlos' friend list, but is definitely not forgotten.
My gruff brother took a full plate of food from family rib night to Joe's partner and stayed up with him. He may not have tact, but my brother is always there for people.
No comments:
Post a Comment