He Was My Brother

Yesterday, I was informed about the sudden death of one of my Brothers.

A Fraternity Brother.

He was 56. Born seven months before me; also in '63.

The Fiji House

When I joined Phi Gamma Delta Fraternity at Wabash College as a freshman, he was a sophomore.

He was handsome.

Funny.

Intelligent.

Outspoken.

And outgoing as hell!

One semester, during my freshman year, I roomed with his best friend. He'd come into our room and wrestle with my roommate (who was a wrestler, by the way). And from time to time, they'd even toss me around!

His given name was James, but for some reason I never learned, we called him "Simmy" or "Sim Pup."

Years after we graduated, I contacted him and told him I was visiting California. He had moved to the Los Angeles area and gotten married. He was kind enough to meet up with me, and took me along to a birthday celebration for one of his wife's friends, a casting director.

After my visit, I didn't have much contact with him until I actually moved to Los Angeles. We linked up on Facebook, made small talk about meeting up for dinner, but we never actually did. Well, one time, we actually set a date. I showed up to the restaurant, but while waiting for him, he texted me that he couldn't make it after all. So, I just dined there alone.

Since then, we only communicated via Facebook and texts. And, ooooh, some of those texts were fiery!! Haaa! He seemed to get a kick out of playing devil's advocate on people's pages, engaging in arguments for the sake of getting folks' goat. He was a freakin' pro at it too!

Well, he's gone now. The story is that he died in his sleep. Just the way I wanna go when that time comes.

He leaves behind his worldly riches. Riches he had no problem telling you about. Haaa!

He leaves behind his only child: an 11-year-old son whose 12th birthday is next month.

He leaves behind his older brother, who is also in our fraternity. I'm not sure if his parents are alive. If they are, I wish them the very best.

We're BORN.

Hopefully, we LIVE.

Then we DIE.

The sad part is that many people are ALIVE, but not LIVING. From time to time, I count myself in that group. Simmy, though, LIVED!

He lived HARD.

And FAST.

And WELL!

I hope and pray that when his eyes closed for the final time, his HEART felt joy.

But I'll never truly know if that was his heart's ending.

It's up to me...RIGHT NOW...to make SURE a feeling of immense joy is MY heart's ending.

Goodbye, Brother Simmy.

Until we meet again...

PERGE.

UPDATE: Sunday, 9/15, I attended a memorial celebration of Jim's life, organized by his ex-wife, Tracy, his son, Dash, his brother, Scott and his childhood friend, Cam.

What I know for sure is: the man loved.

And WAS loved in return.

And that, my friends, are requisites in order to live a GREAT life!