The Three Wise Men
Christmas always brings around the story of the Magi. The three wise men who brought gifts to the Christ child. The gifts they brought were things that the child - a future king, they believed - would need. Many interpretations have been given as to why those gifts were given, what was their purpose, and so forth. It's not my aim here to expound any further on that. It's just that, in this current holiday season, I've been jarringly reminded, through their passing, of my own three wise men, who each brought precious gifts and pearls of wisdom into my life.
My brother Jeff passed from this life on November 20, 2021. Just a few days before the holidays officially began. Jeff was the sibling that I grew up with, as my older brother and sister were both teenagers by the time we were born. While we were typical siblings in that we often fought like cats and dogs and played seriously mean pranks on each other, there was always a lot of love between us. And, quite honestly, I'm not certain I would have survived childhood had he not been there. On more than one occasion, he stepped between me and mother and took the blows meant for me. And once, he dealt the blows to her, breaking his own heart in doing so, to stop her beating my head into the ground. I owe him my life.
As young teenagers, we spent many weekends together. Mother would never allow me to spend time with my own friends and so made Jeff take me with him everywhere as a protector. Oh, if she only knew. Jeff taught me to smoke, both cigarettes and pot and how to roll a joint. He bullied me into drinking my first shot of whiskey. He took me to my first party that didn't involve streamers and birthday cakes. But, most importantly, he taught me that there was music beyond the bubblegum pop that enveloped my heart in its sticky, saccharin embrace. He introduced me to the Allman Brothers, Lynryd Skynyrd, Pink Floyd, Hendrix, Joplin and... The Beatles. All the music that lit such a raging fire in my soul that it eventually exploded out of my throat in a passionate, growling, resonating alto. It was Jeff who introduced me to his friend Robert Deason who, upon singing with me the first time, immediately "hired" me to sing harmony in his band. I was 16 and my life was never the same. Thanks brother.
Jeff and I had our differences and occasionally, those differences created enormous chasms in our relationship. Sometimes, that's just the way things have to be. But I was privileged to be with him as he passed from this life; to hold his hand and tell him one more time what a great big brother he was; to thank him for everything he did for me and to say "I love you" one last time.
My second wise man, Louie "Bud" Keener passed away on December 13, 2021. Bud and I had lost touch many years ago but in no way does that discredit his importance in my life. After high school, I left home and moved in with a co-worker and friend, Kathy Keener. Bud was Kathy's brother and he spent many weekends with us at the house. This was during one of the times when Jeff and I were at odds and Bud became something of a surrogate brother. He and Kathy and I would go out dancing almost every weekend if I wasn't performing somewhere. And if I was performing, they were front row center. He taught me to shoot pool and gifted me my first custom cue stick. I would frequently accompany him on late night jobs when was working as a floor cleaner, and we would spend hours waiting for the wax to dry, drinking coffee, smoking, and talking about life. Bud was my champion. He gave me the courage to break out of my cocoon and become the butterfly I'd always longed to be. He instilled a confidence in myself that years of abuse had taken away. He taught me that it was okay to say "no". If something in the house, or in my life, was broken, he was there. If anyone ever messed with me, he was there. If some guy I was dating broke my heart, he was there. And now he is gone. I had not seen or spoken to him in close to 25 years, but his passing is still so deeply felt. Goodbye Bud, thanks for everything you did to prepare me for the road ahead as we moved from the springtime of our lives into the golden summer.
And finally, yesterday December 15th 2021 saw the passing of my third wise man; Michael Hughes. Michael meant so much to me that I find putting it into words difficult. His contributions to my life were as vast as the ocean and though we drifted in and out of each others lives like the ocean tides, the love between us was just as deep, constant and unchanging. He was my friend, my lover, my soulmate.
He was my first real love. We first met when Jeff brought him to our house. I was about 13 I think, and he was 16. I thought Michael was the cutest boy I'd ever seen. His smile lit up both the room and my heart. I was totally smitten. Of course, he didn't really look twice at me because I was just his friends bratty little sister but he was never unkind to me. For a few years, we were friends by association. We ran in the same circle and spent a lot of weekends together as a group. My crush on him was painfully evident but he was always kind and sweet to me; never discounting my feelings. After high school, we went separate ways but a few years and relationships later saw us reunited as lovers. Many in our group joked that this new side of our relationship was incestuous considering we had been as close as siblings before. We didn't care, we were having the time of our lives. Michael and his brother Scott, taught me to have an interest in fashion and style. Michael always had to approve the stage outfits I chose and Scott designed some of them. If you ever saw the Tinkerbell costume I wore for a Halloween show, you can blame the two of them. I was like a living, breathing Barbie doll to him. The Eliza to his Professor Higgins. We had so much fun. We weren't together as a couple very long; a couple of years at best, but we crammed enough love, life, and laughter into those years to last an eternity. In every great story of my glory days, every happy memory I have, he is there. He will always be there; smiling, happy and golden.
I will never forget the night he told me that he'd fallen in love with another girl and that she was pregnant. I think he cried more than I did. His heart was so big and had so much love in it, that he couldn't bear to know he'd caused someone else pain. We didn't see or speak to each other for about a year or so after that, and then one Christmas, he called me and I could hear the pain in his voice as he told me how much he missed my presence in his life. I had been alone and desolate since we'd parted, so that phone call brought us both much needed healing. Again, we became the best of friends for many years. We spent so much time together that his wife Susan and I often joked about being his harem, even though he and I never shared a physical relationship again. I was there to celebrate the births of four of his six children and he was there for the births of both of mine. Time, parenthood, other relationships, and all the stresses and toils of adult life eventually drifted us farther and farther apart to the point that we went years without meeting or speaking, but we never totally lost track of each other. And we never stopped loving each other.
I hadn't seen him in several years when Roxanne died but he wasted no time in rushing to my side. I was so drugged up that I don't remember much about her funeral, but I do remember seeing him and Rick in the parking lot of the church and how he just held me tighter and tighter as I cried in his arms; tears streaming down his own face. As he did so many other times, he held me together. He did that for everyone. I can't recall him ever being mean spirited to anyone.
He has drifted out of my lifetime for good this time and as Dorothy said to the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz, I think I will miss him most of all. He was always the best of us. Our golden boy.
God speed Dearest. Until we meet again.
There is an old saying that every person we meet in life comes bearing either a gift or a lesson. Sometimes both, depending on how you view the lessons. These three men; these Magi, brought gifts that I would need to survive this journey called life.
Jeff brought me the gift of perseverance and fortitude. Something I've needed a lot of both. He taught me that even in the direst of circumstances, there is joy to be found in helping others. And he taught me that, as far as musical families were concerned, the Allman Brothers were far superior to the Osmond Brothers.
Bud brought me the gift of becoming. He taught me to believe in myself and to follow my own heart's desires instead of those of others. He taught me to trying and failing was actually not as scary as living with the regret of never trying at all. And he taught me some great trick shots that earned me a few bucks in the pool halls.
And Michael brought me love. The pure kind of love that is steadfast and dependable with absolutely no strings attached. Love that is timeless and limitless. Love that is full of joy and fun not struggle and pain. Love that gives you hope for the future and graceful hindsight of the past.
Thank you all for sharing your lives with me, for helping me on my road. You were great brothers and even better men.
