Got up at ungodly o’clock (for me) to take the car in. Did the stretching part of my Taiji warmup, but not the weapons because I knew I was going to be walking home. It’s .8 miles from my house, so just about my level of comfortable. And I would have to do it twice. Maybe.
They told me that they would be slammed, so I should just drop it off. About five minutes after I got home, they called to say it was, indeed, the battery, and that they had to get a special battery from Toyota. The guy was personally going to drive and get it, which was one reason I use them. They do the personal touch, which was really lovely. Plus, they were so close and I did not have to drive on the freeway to get there.
After I finished talking to my garage guy (not Denny, though that is the name of the place), I called my brother. He was selling me his laptop, and I asked if he had time today. I did not want to walk to the garage again (to this time, not from), and he was could do two things at once. I told him I would buy him lunch/dinner if he did it, so he’s coming over.
My brother is the best. Oh, and he is also selling me his old camera that he had been saying I should get (the same model, not the actual camera). He is upgrading to the next model up and as usual, his leftovers are still in perfect condition–and usable.
I love my brother. Not only is he a technical whiz, but he’s willing to help out whenever he can. This is one of the best things about him–he puts his head down and gets shit done. Even my father who has nothing nice to say about anyone once said (while my parents were here during my medical crisis) that my brother just did what needed to be done without complaint. And he said it as an actual compliment. He was right, but I was shocked that he had even noticed.
I know that if my brother could do something, he would move heaven and earth to do it. He likes being helpful, and I liked being helped. In return, I buy him food and am his psychologist/relationishp advisor when he needs it. It works for both of us quite nicely.
It’s funny. When we were kids, we did not get along. We did not dislike each other, but we were not friendly. We are so different, it was hard for us to find anything in common. We are still polar opposites in what we’re interested in, but we get along like gangbusters now.
We can talk for hours. We HAVE talked for hours. Another thing that I appreciate is that he validates what I went through as a kid. He’s the only one who went through the same thing with our dysfunctional parents. We can check in with each other and say, “That was fucked up, right?” Or, because my brother doesn’t swear, “That was messed up, right?”
I can never thank him for what he did for me while I was dead. I liked to joke that dying was a breeze for me because all I did was lie unconscious for a week. He was the one who kept everyone updated through Caring Bridge. He was the one who talked to my medical team and made decisions for me. He was the one who visited me every day and Zoomed in my parents and friends.
He did all this without complaint and without help. He did it while still living his every day life. Meaning, taking his kids to school and being a real estate agent. He was my rock, and I can never, ever repay him. When I tried to thank him, he shrugged and said, “That’s what family does.”
True. I would have done the same for him, but I wouldn’t have been as good at it. He is aces in a emergency because he is more on the logical/pragmatic side. I can turn my emotions off long enough to get shit done, but it comes at a cost. We both agreed, though, that my mother would not have been able to handle it. My father wasn’t even a consideration.