“He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother" (Bobby Scott and Bob Russell, later a hit by The Hollies)
Greg's cremains landed outside my door last Thursday just as I was about to head out to a Notary Public. No one and nothing can prepare you for your tall big brother arriving in a small but heavy box. For such a relatively small container, I discovered while struggling to get it out of the box without dropping it, it is quite heavy. That is when the lyric came to me. "He Ain't Heavy; he's my brother" ... something we used to joke about decades ago, using it at opportune moments. "Yeah, I get it.", I mildly chuckled. He had been hanging around for a few days visiting from the Bardo.
✨✨✨ PART 1: THE CIRCLING ✨✨✨
Greg had been in and out of hospital for over a year. He was 71 and had been mostly healthy for over six decades. Then, he got bladder cancer. It metastasized into his prostate. His prostate and bladder had to be removed and his urine redirected through a stoma into an ostomy bag.
My big brother was an optimist. He made it through chemo and through immunotherapy. They rang the bell for him at the hospital twice. He was so proud of himself and I was happy for him. Then, he got a bowel obstruction. Another bag was added. They sent him home like they always did and he could not take care of himself.
Another bowel obstruction later and some nurse was talking about sending him home to his dump again. I called the hospital and started advocating for him. That is something I have to do a lot for myself due to health issues. He wasn’t accustomed to it and trusted the system far too much. He didn’t see what I had seen. So, I made clear that if they sent him home he would die there alone in that dump that was infested with bugs and rats and that he couldn't make it upstairs to the kitchen. The last time they did so, he wasn’t eating. He couldn’t make it to the bathroom either. He almost froze to death outside in the snow when he was dropped off because he couldn’t make it to the door through heavy snow with his walker. Someone finally helped him. That is our 'wonderful' Canadian healthcare system. Finally, after the place actually flooded (he lost everything) it seemed they weren’t going to send him home. I didn’t have to fight for him anymore.
Now, after his passing, I’m taking care of Greg’s business and it’s been harrowing on top of notifying everyone who needs to know of his death that happened at the nursing home he was eventually transferred to, out of town. I haven’t been well myself. The UTI wasn’t going away. Still hasn’t. Some people he knew personally and cared about were very challenging. He trusted people too easily due to his good heart.
Now, I wait for the equivalent of a letter of administration from the Ontario government through the Superior Court in my old home town so that I can file his taxes next year and receive my inheritance as well. Matters are very complicated when there is no Will. Part of my inheritance will go into making sure that mine is updated!
Of course the vultures were circling. Everyone knew he lived in a condemnable dump to save money for his dreams. No one knew how much money. Two people he knew, each with different estimates (both wrong) were trying to poison my mind against the other, saying the other was only after his money while claiming they didn't want any of it. One of them, within the same conversation claimed they didn't want any of it and then that Greg wanted all of it to go to him and me! Yeah ... sure.
We lived on a military base for the first 9 1/2 years of my life. When I was little, Greg took me for rides in my stroller through the parade square. When I got older, he took me for walks in the woods, taught me about animal tracks in the snow in winter, taught me about birds, and we would hunt for salamanders to play with. He walked so fast. I would grab his coat and pull myself forward trying to keep up or he would finally carry me on his back. Otherwise, we would go for picnics on the stationary tanks in the park. He was 10 years older than me. Our eldest brother was 16 years older. I’m the only one left.
✨✨✨ PART 2: BETWEEN WORLDS✨✨✨
Greg made a clean transition, but when I called for a psychopomp (an entity that works between the realm of the dead and here) to take a message to him, he came back with him. He was here for awhile. I felt so badly for him. The way his so-called friends treated me eventually, the girlfriend’s daughter not erasing his phone and using his email and social media and getting into his passwords etc…., the money vultures, it couldn’t have felt good. They had shown their true colours- all of them. I have been miserable through it all so that couldn’t have been easy either. I let him know I’m like this when I’m in pain. I am honoured to do this for him. I simply won’t pretend I am ok when I'm not.
My big brother took a few days to think about what he wanted concerning what I do with his cremains and the money. One night, I went to bed early. He woke me up around a half hour into my sleep letting me know he was going back to what is called The Bardo. It's an in-between place for those in transition from here to elsewhere. It looks like Earth realm. Some there don't know they are no longer bound by physical limitations. Greg had been visiting our mother there for at least a few months without remembering it. I was travelling in my sleep one night, as I always do as a liminal entity to various realms, and saw him meeting up with our mother who was needlessly using a walker.
Greg agreed with my choice not to give them anything, to give the bit of money I owe him to Blodel Conservatory for Birds and to scatter his ashes at my favourite park. He had seen photos of the park, so he knew where I meant. He said to do so on the first anniversary of his death. His urn is now on the vintage dresser that needed new knobs when I moved in to my new apartment near Samhain 2025. I put wallpaper on it too so it would look ok in this place. The flowers and peacock feathers are for my Great Uncle Enki who watches out for me and watched out for him too, little did he know.
To Be Continued ...
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