In The First Year After My Brother

A Eulogy for a Fallen Marine, Son, and Big Brother.

This is probably about the thousandth speech I’ve written out and about the millionth I’ve thought up. Writing has never been strictly hard for me, but in this instance it has been nearly impossible. I have been told to write honorably about Zeke, because he’s my big brother, this is his funeral and that’s what funerals are for; to honor the dead and to give closure to the living. The problem is; I don’t feel like honoring Zeke right now. I’m not in that headspace yet. But as a Wordsmith, I am used to playing the acting role at times, putting myself back into the headspace of a past version of me, projecting myself into a future version of me or even attempting to place myself in the mind of another being entirely. So I will try my best to do the right thing and honor my brother with my words today.

Zeke has always been honest with me. He has always been real with how he’s feeling and we made a habit of talking through some really deep stuff together. He showed me some really cool things about the world and shared parts of his life with me that I would bet he never shared with many other people, if anyone at all. I will always cherish the relationship I have with my brother as unique, undefinable and one of the deepest I’ll ever have. I trusted Zeke with a lot, and I depended on him in more ways than I realized or will admit. He was there for me when I truly needed him and he never hesitated to defend me or stand up both for me and to me when the time called for it, and even when the time did not call for it.

I mean, Zeke is saver. He perpetually rescues people from situations in which they have no power or very little power at all. He saved my sister and I from countless situations, was quick to defend his cousins and friends, and therefore I have no doubts that he was trying to save Julia, at least in his mind, when he married her. I know he truly cared about Julia and his other friends he met in the Marine Corps, and as hard as it is for me to see right now, I know he loved me too.

One of the things I admire most about Zeke was his way of handling arguments with me. Whenever I get mad at him (or Michelle, Mom or Dad), he refuses to leave my room until I cheer up, or at least open up about the problem, and the two of us work it out. He can see when I start to put up walls and block out the rest of the world, or namely him, and he’ll point them out to me and coax me into letting my guard back down. Zeke reminds me that he loved me, Mom and dad loves me and Michelle loves me. He makes sure I remember that my current state of mind will eventually pass and I will be able to see the whole picture soon enough. Of course, he doesn’t always use those words, but that was the message that comes across; the message he was trying to send, I believe.

I have always viewed my relationship with Zeke as a fortress on a hill. Him as the King of the Castle of Night. Neither strictly good or evil, but mostly fair, albeit with a temper and a big heart. When I grew old enough to see the castle with curious eyes and a determined heart, he came from within the bowls of his fortress and invited me in. He showed me the ropes and we started planning together. We schemed wars, bickered amongst ourselves, but eventually we found a rhythm. He understood me and I him. We grew to depend on each other, relying on each other’s strengths and filling in for each other's faults. So when the morning came before the Sun had even thought to open her eyes, when the Marines delivered the devastating news that my brother the King; the mighty, brave, struggling but getting there young man that was My Big Brother was dead, many thoughts flashed through my head.

But chief among them now is, How am I supposed to hold down the fortress now without him? He had one job in this relationship. We had parted with one shared goal between us. Because even though, “I’ve survived all of my worst days.” Even though I’ve lived through every battle I’ve charged into; my big brother, the King of the Castle of Night, is gone because he has not. He was defeated. And I do not understand.

But to conclude, as I could go on all day, I shall leave you with the broken promise that lies at my feet, in the hope that we will, together, be able to mend the pieces back together; please, “Don’t die.”

Zeke responded the last time ever saw him, as he always did, “No promises.”