My Brother

When I was four years old, I was convinced that Santa Claus existed. Moreover, it seems the imaginary hero paid a special visit that year (1961?) to our home in suburban St. Louis for Christmas. However, it was none other than my, then, 10-year-old brother, Tom, who wore that homemade red outfit along with those dime store costume whiskers.


Of course, I knew it was Tom. (The real Santa was down at the local shopping center!) Nevertheless, it did not matter. My next older brother, Tim and I enjoyed playing along because Tom hammed up the part so well. He wanted so bad to be Santa Claus to us, and he really made the role come alive.


Now, I don't recall any of the toys or material items I was given, but I will never forget that Christmas from my early childhood because of Tom’s kindhearted and selfless gift. Tom knew I was all about Santa Claus that year, and he went out of his way to make me feel special by making the fantasy come alive for me as best as he could.


Throughout his life, Tom has had this brilliant, creative flair for storytelling and acting. I remember spending many hours with him in his room listening to records . My father liked Classical music, and Tom took one of his LP's, Stravinsky’s ‘Firebird Suite’, and added a wonderful tale of his own making to go along with the soundtrack. The story was spellbinding, and Tom told it so well. I remember asking him to recite it repeatedly.


With the exception of a possible e-mail once or twice a year, I have, unfortunately, lost almost all contact with Tom through the passage of years. Several years ago, I learned recently that he had been battling clinical depression. Now, as he approaches 60, things for Tom have suddenly taken a dramatic turn for the worse. Doctors have recently diagnosed him as having brain atrophy. Apparently, there is no cure for it, and Tom won’t be to live independently for the rest of his life.


What a hideous turn of events! I’m not certain how much I believe in the power of prayer. Nevertheless, I plan to seek guidance from my higher power for hope and wisdom. I don’t believe all is lost. Perhaps, scientists will discover a remedy or technology that will slow, stall and possibly reverse this insidious disease that taking away my brother’s beautiful mind.