My Brother

 

By Rebekah Parise

My brother had blue eyes

He wore clothes that smelled of lavender,

And he walked fast, but always made sure

I could keep his pace.

I remember his voice, I think,

Not as well as I used to,

But I can sometimes hear it still.

I used to expect him to call,

To text me still, to show up

At the door someday.

It hurt to think he would.

But it hurts even more to

Not remember what it was like

When he would come over.

I promised him I'd always remember him,

And I do remember him, all the time

But not like I used to.

Sometimes it feels like he wasn't real.

Like he was a fictional character

In a book I really love.

I miss when he was fresh in my mind.

Seasons Passing by Frankie Parise

 

Dry summers past, and now at last, come crisp and autumn nights

Snow and rain will come again, as frozen winter bites

I feel the pain of snow and rain, the longer you're not here

That's my curse, and it just gets worse, and worse, from year to year

The lonely nights, and city lights, each time bring up your name

And every smell, sight, and sound, around me do the same

The chirping birds, the hollow words, that others like to say

It's all in vain, the fact remains, it won't take the pain away

The only thing that keeps me going, is your spirit, tried and true

Because I know you love me, and I'll always love you

Remembering Felix: A Memorial Art Exhibit

 

 

Remembering Felix

On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living- that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend’s life also, in our own, to the world.

Henry David Thoreau

Felix Brow was an artist, scenic and costume designer, and window display designer living in NY when he was diagnosed with Biphasic Pleural Mesothelioma, a cancer caused by asbestos exposure, primarily occurring in the elderly. Felix was 28 at the time of diagnosis. Felix found out that his birthday, September 26^th, was Mesothelioma Awareness Day during his 1-year battle with the disease. He vowed to not only fight to extend his own life, but work on advocacy to prevent this catastrophic, but preventable, cancer. Sadly, Felix lost his battle 1 year after his diagnosis. His friends and family continue to remember Felix and carry on his work.

This exhibit starts with Felix’s love of literature. Growing up in Concord, MA, Felix developed this love early in life. He remained well-read throughout his short life and found comfort in reading while he was ill. The first section of the exhibit is a book dedicated to Felix called Mandelbrot the Tree: A Fractal Story. It continues with Felix’s Lemony Snicket inspired Sour Sixteen “party” and his life-long love of Edward Gorey including his 12^th birthday and Brooklyn memorial service.

The next section illustrates Felix’s love of historic preservation. At the time of his death, Felix was planning on starting the Master’s in Historic Preservation program at Boston University. His BU admissions essay is displayed with his painting of an historic house in Concord that was torn down.

The next section speaks to Felix’s thoughts on Love, Infinity, and the Afterlife. It includes a journal entry he wrote years before he was diagnosed, a quilt by his grandmother, Jill Brow, and Felix’s Love Collage.

The exhibit continues with the Art & Illness section showing works of art created by Felix while he was battling terminal cancer, and continues with memorials

Remembering Felix

A Care Guide for Whoever Inherits My Brother's Soul by Rebekah Parise

 

A care guide for whoever inherits my brother's soul:

1. Sometimes in the dead of night,

You may hear singing in the silence.

The whistling of the trees may become

The voices of a thousand poets.

Listen.

2. You may find yourself taking

walks in the rain. You find solace there,

you find it in a lot of places.

Let the rain soak into your clothes

and don’t worry about getting the mud stains

out of your shoes for once.

3. If you feel that his soul is getting restless,

Pick up a brush and let him paint.

You will find that the soul can see things

The eye often cannot. Let him show you

How hyacinths can bloom in one's bright

Blue eyes, and how the sun setting

Is not the most beautiful image in the world.

You will find beauty where others cannot.

4. If his soul begins to weep, let him mourn.

He may miss the vessel he once knew.

Comfort him for me, assure him,

Let him write poetry again.

He feels so many things,

Now so will you.

5. You may go somewhere new and somehow,

Everything will seem very familiar.

He used to walk those streets, you sit in the

Coffee shops he used to sit in.

You may find yourself ordering a strong tea,

And wondering ‘why does it taste like home?’

It’s not deja vu, it’s nostalgia.

6. Lastly, I need you to promise me

That you will take care of him.

And if you ever see me, and wonder who

The girl is, staring a little too long,

Call me out, allow me to apologize,

And please let me explain that I thought I saw

A glimpse of my brother's ghost in your eyes.