I know it’s almost Election Day and there’s so many topics I could be writing about. Even, should be writing about, perhaps?

And I actually have some topics I’ve started writing about.  Thoughts on social media and you (yes, you).

Candidly, while I hope those topics are ones you’ll find informative and interesting, if I write those instead of what I’ve decided to write, it’s because I’m being strategic about my blog.  Because I’m playing it safe.

It would not be fearless.

So those will wait.   Tonight, before I click “publish”, I’ll take a deep breath.  I’ll second guess myself.  I’ll wonder if this maybe would have been more appropriately shared in an email instead.

If you’re reading this, then tonight I decided to stay committed to being fearless.

Tonight I free fall.

This is for my brother, Ryan.   He’s doing his Residency at Harvard (MGH).

On Friday he & my sister-in-law took my nephew trick-or-treating in the Beacon Hill neighborhood.

Ryan – Just was thinking of you and wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love and admire you.

Maria told me about trick or treating & going to John Kerry’s house.  A small moment.  A fun story.  But for some reason I keep going to it in my mind.

Not sure if I can articulate what’s my head & heart, but here’s my attempt:

Parallel images/thoughts/visions sort of like a montage in a movie. Or maybe a music video.

You. Walking up stone stairs to greet John Kerry.  You tell him you work with his daughter.

You. Arriving at Eli’s Little Gym in C’ville.  You’re still dressed from work.

Eli. His eyes fix on the doorway as he notices you and grow large.  His smile grows even larger.  He runs towards you.

You. I can see your pager clipped to your belt as you’re bending down to catch Eli and lift him in the air for a kiss. This was the first time it really hit me. You are a man now.

Me. Standing with grandma & grandpa while Mom brings you up the path to the house in New City, home from the hospital when you were born.  Not sure how I remember something from when I was three, but the images are vivid.

You. You’re reaching to shake John Kerry’s hand.  You grasp his hand. Firmly. Because dad taught us how to shake hands. “Never give anyone a fish!”

You. On the phone from Boston, calling me before you began your residency. Something about a necktie.  I remember more, but this is my blog, not yours, so your conversations don’t belong out in the open here.

Me. On the other end of the phone, in San Diego.  Thinking that Dad would have had the perfect thing to say to put things in perspective. Also thinking you’d be more than fine as soon as your first day began.

Senator Kerry. His eyes registering acknowledgment of his connection to you through his daughter. My gut tells me this man was the second President Elect of the United States to not to take office.  The second man whose seat in the Oval Office was occupied by George Bush instead.

Joe. Telling me how John Kerry kicked ASS in a debate on CSPAN the other day. This is a bright, successful, accomplished, powerful man.  This man is a leader.

John Kerry. Glad to meet someone from his daughter’s life.  Someone who can also appreciate her accomplishments.   At this moment, you are shaking hands with John Kerry, the father.

You. Turning and catching up with Maria and Eli. It’s Eli’s hand in yours now.

Dad. New Year’s Eve 2000, beside himself with the Joy of Family and being together.

Dad. I picture him telling people on the phone about your trick-or-treating.  I picture him holding you in the same esteem (if not higher) than John Kerry.  Mostly, I picture Dad Proud.  I picture Dad smiling.  (thank you for helping me picture him this way again)

You. One day in the future.  Teaching Eli the right way to shake hands.

My dear sweet spectacular brother. Your accomplishments could fill this page five times over. I’m proud of you for each and every one.

Mostly I am proud of you for turning into such a wonderful father and special, special man.

You keep Dad’s spirit alive. Do you know that?

With so much love,

Your sister, Faryl

(P.S. Did I tell you I’m a fearless blogger now?)

 Link to this page

 Link to this page

similar posts you might enjoy

• Dad Dreams: Like the Original Becky, But Way Better
• Remembering Michaels
• Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is.
• Enjoy Today