Today I Lost My Brother

Today I lost a brother.

I hadn't planned to post about him tonight but, somehow, just needed to.  It's therapy of a sort.

Brother Rod, 56, was my Christmas present when I was four years old. At the age of 4, a baby brother isn’t exactly what a little girl has on her holiday wish list.

Over the years, Rod turned out to be a great present.

And he wasn’t just a gift for me.

Rod was a gift to many people. He ran winning campaigns for lots of candidates who probably wouldn’t have won without him

Rod met the big “C” with his first diagnosis many years ago; it was melanoma.

Two years ago, he had a cancerous brain tumor. He had surgery in August 2008; one hour after the brain surgery, he was on the cell phone doing business as usual. Rod quipped: “I can see the headlines now: ‘Shealy Survives Surgery; Dies of Boredom’.”

That surgery removed the tumor – totally – and he was fine.

At least for a while.

Some time during the summer of 2009, he learned that the cancer was in his lungs.

This year, we learned it was back in his brain.

Rod, with cancer eating at his brain and lungs, was still running political campaigns and trying to carry on as usual for the June 2010 primaries.

Just last weekend, he was in his office when he fell and broke his hip. He was scheduled for hip replacement surgery today but had massive bleeding in his brain this morning and was unresponsive.

Rod had maintained a very positive and upbeat attitude. Sometimes he said things like, “The folks at the hospital like me ‘cause everybody else is sick.”

I first ran for office in 1970; he helped me in that campaign and then ran every campaign of mine after that one. He ran my campaign for lieutenant governor in 1990; it’s was my first loss and I believe he took it harder than I did.

But, like with any loss or any setback, he bounced back quickly.

When I asked him several years ago if it was too late to throw my hat in the ring for a particular race, he replied, “Yep. By about 34 years.”

Whether it was politics, family, or anything else, Rod enjoyed life to the fullest. He had a dry wit, a keen sense of humor and a heart of gold. He loved to play the guitar and sing. He loved being creative.

Other than in the hospital bed, I can’t remember the last time I saw him without a bright floral Hawaiian shirt. That was one of his trademarks. In fact, he went to an inaugural ball; like others, he wore a tuxedo – but with the Hawaiian floral print bowtie and cummerbund, along with tennis shoes, I believe.

He adored his two grandchildren; they adored him as well and called him “Rod-Boy.”

Other than Mom, I’ve known him longer than anyone else, and I will miss him more than anyone can imagine.

What a valuable Christmas present he was!

To read his own views about life and death, click here:  http://blondesherry.blogspot.com/2010/08/ww-say-little-prayer-for-my-bro.html