I have been thinking a lot about my brother Peter lately, and giving thanks that he and his family, Linda, Barry and William, are in my life. We are coming up to the anniversaries of our parents' deaths, and I think I am appreciating family more and more, since I am aware that I know several people "our age" (yes, both in our fifties) who have recently died. So I set out to look for a photo that we would both like and remember, and I came across this one from our schooldays in Hong Kong. I am the one in the attractive white glasses, and Peter has his book bag over his shoulder.
He was in Kindergarten, I was in the second grade. We attended Royden House School, which also served as the headquarters for an ambulance service (see example in the background.) Our playground was a parking lot, our classmates were from many different countries,the class room was English Public School Strict, and it was a formative time for both of us. The year was 1965. We lived in Hong Kong for only two years, but it changed me profoundly.
I find it comforting and hopeful to believe that somehow, someway, all of those people who have gone before us are still in our lives in some energetic, holy way. How we will see them, know them,connect with them when we ourselves die is not for us to know now. But as I think about our parents, give thanks for Peter and all my living family, I can't help but hope that when my time comes, I will view death as a door to another great adventure, in another form, in another kind of time. For now, I give thanks for Peter, my little brother. I love that...he will always be my little brother!
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