Post Title

Blog

           I am writing this elegy for my dear brother Rob while watching a wild parakeet rest on a bare tree across from me. My only sibling, my younger brother,  died tragically two years ago, leaving a note behind which detectives discovered in a kitchen cupboard. But it is the appearance of this wild bird I want to tell you about.

                This wild bird makes my mind stream back to a window near the hospice where my husband had been ailing some time prior to my brother’s death. I had been woken up in the morning by a raucous choir. Looking out to the window ledge, I was surprised to see a drove of green feathered birds speaking loudly with each other about seeding grasses they would feast on today, the berries, buds and insects that would be so sweet, and ideas about flight paths they might take through the air. Oh how they had lifted my spirits when my husband was dying.

               Soon after sighting them, I learned that the parakeet population in this area had begun with a one male and female, who loving freedom, had made a daring escape from their cage when being delivered to a pet store. Sometimes I would I chance upon a screeching colony of these birds in a nature reserve . I never did actually see them, for they were up on fronds of fifty feet tall palms.  But when I waited, I would see them fly off in flock squawking to another part of the preserve.

         But not until today when I began to write this elegy did one come to perch on a tree near me.

          This tree is without blossoms and leaves. So this one green parakeet balanced on a thin branch just a dozen feet above the sidewalk with its long tail feathers suspended, says so much to me.

         It is without comrades or camouflage, there for my eyes to see. What could this mean? 

                                                                          **

           My brother Rob, beloved by his small flock of friends suddenly departed this world. For the past 24 months, I have tried to make sense of my warm and witty, highly intelligent and vulnerable brother who never married or had children. At the end of January 2022, the beginning of the New Year and what should have been the first blessed year in his new life, he was found lifeless in his newly leased apartment.

                    Just one month before, Rob had handed over the keys to everything he knew to soar to new horizons. Heeding his own counsel and rejecting advice from certain friends, he executed his very radical plan. He sold his home which he let me know was for him a beloved child. This home, where he spent weekends and holidays, enclosed his best memories and the blood of his life. Soon after, he also gave up his apartment in Manhattan that had contained his daily existence for 40 years. He emptied it out and handed over the key: according to a friend, he gave away much of his clothing to the doorman there. He retired from his law firm where, since he finished law school, he had found another home. There his career took off and at its apex; he was well-known and esteemed in Manhattan commercial real estate circles.

             On Sept. 11, 2001, he lost many professional friends and clients when the World Trade Center was brutally razed to the ground. And even though he managed to attract new clients, he continued, to mourn the ones who perished. 

           Maybe scars from that, and afterwards scars from the pandemic informed his decision to take leave of New York. During the pandemic, he had begun to call me a great deal and to share his feelings-- his loneliness during the lockdown, going into the office and being one of the few souls in the entire building. Yet with his great wit he also had me laughing hard. He had spent a day trying to find a barber who might secretly open his doors for clients who during the lockdown had butchered their hair by mistake. During one of those conversations on the phone he spoke more seriously about his dream of getting out of NY. He was going to map out a new future. I thought he would manifest his dream gradually. Escape from New York and expand his wings.

             In Dec. 2021, with one small suitcase he traversed the skies and landed in West Palm Beach.

             The courage this took, without even knowing the medical benefits in Florida for people over 65!

              Imagine moving to a state without having a clue about the health system there which became an issue for him when he began to feel not quite himself.

               But who can blame him for not feeling himself? The challenge he faced just to get from his new home on Military Drive in Boca to West Palm Beach was so difficult that he made jokes about the conflicting navigation on his GPS which got him lost every time he took one of his two cars.

                 On a more serious note, even finding an ear specialist who could see him in the foreseeable future was a goal he was not successful in attaining.

                One thing is clear. He intended to be freed in Florida—to enjoy the sun and water, the pleasant climate, to spend time with his friends, to visit his niece Estie and her family who lived nearby and perhaps spend time with me when I visited Florida. To be outside on the golf courses that he loved. To listen to the music that made him joyful at home in his cars perhaps on too high a volume. To go deep sea fishing. To work out in the gym; to get massaged, to sweat in saunas, to swim and more than anything to run. A few days before he died he was out doing just that and came back to the apartment grounds bent over with a splitting pain in his side. Residents in the area helped him. And he apparently regained his composure and strength and intention.

                    Above all, he intended to live a simple life in accordance with the truth in his heart and nature of his soul. Because he left so little behind, what he did leave by way of belongings, ultimately jumped out at me. Aside from assorted papers and documents and many CD’s of his favorite music, were two books. Just 2 books. One on cultivating mental strength and the other, I want to speak to you about now.

                   It is called End the Struggle and Dance with Life by Dr. Susan Jeffers. At first I paid no attention to either of the two books which were in this box with his few belongings. Then something made me pick up this book up and to gaze inside. I wouldn’t be sharing this discovery with you now, for Rob with all his love for people, guarded his privacy zealously. But I will share some things because his hard won insights might enrich us all and make us more insightful and happier. 

           Opening this book, I was stunned to find on the title page, an inscription Rob made to himself “End Struggle Rob. Am Alive!”  And on almost every page after, he made checks of agreement with a green pen, underlined or double scored sentences; highlighted and circled passages in orange iridescent pen. He poured out sentiments in the margins showing me he was totally engaged with ending the Struggle in order to dance with life.

             Dancing for him, at this fateful point was expanding the wings of his soul and attuning to its joy. 

              Here is some of what he scribbled in the margins of those pages.

            You have come miles.

             Just let it be!

           Focus your attention on the beauty of now. I am ready for a great year.

         One month into that year, 2022, he was found lifeless in bed, this book on a shelf. Among hundreds of markings in the book, I found these in which he underscored words of the author Dr. Susan Jeffers.

             Our spirit can lead us all the way home.

            Reaching a place of intense clarity and light is simply a matter of rising above the clouds.

            Life can be a mass of exquisite moments

             All the dangers in or world are like a blessed wake up call. They tell us to live now, not tomorrow, not when the children grow up, but now!             

            It tells me a lot about what he hoped to find before he was found without life. Rob was struggling to find renewal for his very being that is for sure. He truly yearned to connect to everyone and everything in a different way than ever had before. He was going through the throes of a blessed wake -up call so he could LIVE NOW. And the now he faced was so different and so difficult.

         We do not know exactly what happened those last few days. Apparently, he was not feeling well. He had not seen a doctor yet. Unfortunately he turned off his phones. He never found an ear specialist that could see him. We have still not received the autopsy report.

                The final death certificate says, Cause of Death, Not Determined.  But I am soothed now by certain words and signs.

                  He highlighted this in the book he left behind:

                  Reaching a place of intense clarity and light is simply a matter of rising above the clouds.

                Yes there you are Rob. Above the clouds full of intense clarity. Looking down on us, you are shining the light that burns within you, the light you yearned to be illumined by.

                  Let these last words of yours help others in crises.

                                                                                 **

                 The tree is empty. The parakeet has taken flight. Yet the tree and the parakeet are animating my mind. Excitedly, I read about wild parakeets . They belong to a sub-species of parrots called ring-necked parakeets or monk parakeets that prefer to fly in flocks containing thousands of birds for company. When they land, they groom, kiss, and nuzzle each other as a way of showing affection. Their behavior shows devotion, trust, and family closeness.

              Yet for me this one solitary bird that rested across from my house, without the comfort and protection of his flock, may have symbolized something important about my brother Rob. Experiencing wide open expanses is crucial to parakeets. They like to explore with full wings spread. Indeed as these birds glide, nerves in their wing endings awaken. There is no restraint. There is a sense of unbridled joy in their freedom. They relish the beauty of now.