Saying Goodbye

It's been a good few years since I last blogged, and tonight was not supposed to be an evening in which I found any inspiration to write, but talking with my older brother Shaun about my brother Jason's death on Monday, I find that I have once again been robbed of a relationship, robbed of a life that should have been, and most of all, robbed of saying goodbye properly to my big brother.

So, here I write my goodbye letter to you Jason, and although you will never read this, I need to pour my heart out about so many memories I have of you and I growing up, and of a 20 year gap in our lives that should never have been, one, that right now in my life, I regret more than you can imagine.

Before I do this though, you need to know something: I saw you Jay, I think so anyway, I found you. Over the past few months, you were different, as if you had always been that way. I sensed a need to want to bond with me, to create something of a relationship out of the pile of ashes that was our so-called relationship for so many years.
I wrote you off, I said goodbye to you mentally and emotionally so many years ago, and spent the next 20 or so years, not really ever thinking about our past, our childhood, any interaction between us faded to nothing.

Save for a few phone calls over the years after you had been drinking, or feeling some wanton desire to speak to me, our paths had crossed for the last time.

And then, there you were. Your leathers, helmet and big-ass bike, in my driveway, burning rubber and waiting to be let in, as if it was just a week since we had last seen one another. I thought that Natasha was going to kill you for the skid-marks you left on my driveway, and I knew enough of you to know that the ensuing argument would be something that you practically waited for, craved, needed to help you make an entrance, or feel comfortable, as always in conflict. This was the quintessential Jason Huckfield.
Enigmatic as always, I opened for you, and in you came, surprising Natasha and I, and sending the kids into a frenzy at the sound of the motorbike, and this cool dude called Uncle Jason.

To say that that evening was the strangest time in our entire relationship (and I remember some STRANGE ASSED times in our past, like that time when we were still in Primary School, and as I was walking to class, your massively built best friend, I think his name was Chris, ran to me screaming that you were hurt and couldn't breathe on the soccer fields. You had had your first asthma attack from your allergy to grass, which was only discovered around then. I remember thinking to myself that the tough, brash exterior was a guise for someone who could be knocked down by grass. GRASS??!! COME ON! You call ME the freak because of my shoulder deformity, bad heart, dark skin and glasses, but there you are, Mr Tough, felled by tiny blades of grass. I remember feeling awfully smug after that. Yeah, I know, you never would have though that I had these thoughts, and that little innocent Brian could have such horribly sadistic thoughts, but here they are boet, finally for you to see. I cringed a little after reading that right now, because this is the first time I ever said these things out loud. I realize now that, at that moment, it was probably the only time in my life that I felt superior to you in any way.
Anyway, I have digressed a little, back to that evening...

When you got off your bike and greeted the kids, and walked to me, I put my hand out to shake yours, and you smiled at me Jay, you smiled at me in a way I had NEVER seen you smile. A look on your face of real affection, of genuine happiness to be standing there, and you caught me totally  off-guard. Thinking of that moment right now just made me cry like a child, because I know that I will take that memory to my grave, and cherish just that one moment at least forever. You see, Jay, your tough-guy exterior and actions made you into a polar opposite of mine. Someone I could never relate to, someone who forced me to be a conversational chameleon, even as kids, where I would need to adopt the tough guy mindset, ready for attack, using words like "chicks, graze and gif" regularly, something that I would normally, then as a child, and now even, as an adult shy away from because it lent to sounding uneducated, and that was something that this nerdy little boy couldn't cope with. You were always the tough guy to me, even more so than Shaun, but you had enigma about you, the constant uncertain mindset of what to expect next from you.
I remembered now that time when we were kids, living in Ridgeway, and you had walked home from school with your friend (I am not even sure you were even at school that day, but more on that later) through a recently burned out veld. You had stepped bare-footed on a plastic Quindrink (wow, there's a memory huh?) bottle and it had exploded all over your feet and legs.
I can close my eyes and remember what it looked like then, all black and burned, and yet you had managed to get from the park, home, and although in a lot of pain, you never showed a tear (at least when I was looking) and THAT was you. Polar opposite to the emotional boy that cried unashamedly at his woes. I couldn't understand you, and you me, we were just so different.
There began the end of what was never really any form of relationship....
Anyway, yet another digression....I promise, I will get to the point of what I was saying about that evening.

I saw you boet, I saw a different man, I saw a softness that I had NEVER seen before, as you hugged me hello, you left me stunned internally, completely unarmed, and completely unprepared for how that started, I don't think that my mind stopped racing from that moment on. We only spent an hour or so together that evening, and you had to leave, off on the road again, to where you were trying so hard to chase your happiness. After you had left my place (and left a doughnut in the street from a burnout....ah yes, Jason, the king of the bombastic entrance, and master of the grand exit) I remember sitting in my office chair, and saying to Natasha that I could not believe what had just happened. That I saw THAT Jason...a man I did not know. I remember smiling for so long after that, just as we had during the hour long conversation we had that night. We laughed so much, and gawked at bike races and Lamborghini Gallardo's dicing in videos on YouTube. Just being....no pretences. Wait, what? What??? That wasn't the way it went, this was not the way of things between us. But, there it was. I still have all the bookmarks Jay, they are all there still, reminding me of the night I met my brother.

Anyway, we spoke a few times over the next few weeks, and then, one Sunday afternoon, you rocked up again, and we sat outside, just the 2 of us, on my couches on the patio, and we drank beer together and spoke about life. We spoke about work, about drinking, and about racing. Then, when we spoke about Kayler and Nikita, I saw your eyes go from ponderous and far away, to smiling and proud, as you spoke of them. Man, I can't tell you how special it was to me to see that, to know how your heart swelled with pride, about your girls.And then you spoke of your massive want to stop racing bikes, and stop drinking. You spoke of your lack of skills to do much else, and I heard a very empty and lost man. I knew then that it would never happen, that the world you were in was too much a part of you, and you a part of it, that you would never be able to lead what other's consider a "normal" life. But yet, you spoke of your desire to have a normal life, with a terrible resignation and I found myself with nothing to say, no single positive word could leave my lips to try to encourage you, or spin some bullshit cliche about being all you want to be. It did not fit that space, it would never have worked, and for some reason, at that point, I respected you too much to even try. So we sat, and you fetched us beers (Holy Shit! YES! YOU fetched us beers....and I just sat there, smug as hell, realising that we were in a different space)
I realised something while we were sitting outside that afternoon, and that was that you were actually listening to me talk, and letting me be part of your world. I got goosebumps then, as I get them now thinking about that. Holy shit I am a soppy doos. But you need to know these things, I need to tell you Jay, because, for some reason, tonight, it means the world to me for you to know this.

When you were leaving I told you that I love you, you never said it back, (you never had) and I begged you to be careful on your bike, and I demanded that you come back in one piece, so we could spend an entire weekend together. You agreed that after your race in the Cape, that you would come back to Joburg, and come stay over at ours for a weekend, so we could really spend some good time together, so my kids could sit in amazement at their cool uncle Jay....so we could finally spend the time that we should have done for so many years before.
Yet, the elephant remained in the room, and neither of us acknowledged what I have just said, but I knew you felt the same way.

When you had gone I felt truly sad that you were gone, but I was excited for when you got back, eager to continue building this thing that you brought so nonchalantly for both of us to ponder.

I thought a lot about you after that, and spoke with Mommy about the times we had spent together, and she too was completely amazed that I was talking, so eagerly, about time we had spent together. I suppose it was alien to her too...but I could hear that it truly made her happy. Today, as I sit here writing this, I can only pray that you were, for at least some of the time, as you were on the road, or racing your Huyabusa, thinking of how special this was to me, and perhaps thinking of the future, of a possibly renewed relationship, something that we could salvage from the bullshit that was our past.

Speaking about a bullshit past....remember when you were "studying" at John Orr Tech, and you friggin NEVER went to school? I remember you bullshitting Daddy and Mommy, getting dressed for school, and sneaking me your tog-bag filled with civvies, for your day, when you WEREN'T going to school. I would pass the tog-bag to you out my window, as you hopped the back wall to catch your bus. I remember always feeling like such a rebel, just being a part of that...wow, I WAS a serious nerd huh? I remember when Daddy and Mommy got a call from your school telling them that you had attended like 11 days of the entire year, or something crazy like that. I truly thought you wouldnt survive to see the sunset that day.

Anyway, the last time I saw you, you were drunk, and so Natasha and I made sure we delayed the conversation for as long as we could, making sure we kept you here for as long as we could, while you sobered up. Damon spent time with you that night, and ironically, that night, my son took such a wonderful liking to you, so much so that I could not believe his reactions to the news a week later. I felt a need that day that I have never felt, I felt a need to protect my brother, I felt a need to make sure you stayed alive, so we did our best, and we had some good laughs.
We agreed that night, as you were leaving (and calling Natasha "Die Krokodil" making me cringe, waiting for her to give you a hook shot to the midriff for that) that the following weekend (this weekend) you would come over, and spend the weekend with us.

It was raining when you left, and you grabbed and hugged me goodbye, and for the first time in my life, I heard my brother Jason mutter under his breath that he loved me. Oh God, Jason, screw you! SCREW YOU for giving me this little time we spent together to love you, to make writing this a necessity, to make me cry when I think of you. SCREW you for giving me a heart of hope, for giving me genuine feelings of what would be......

and then.....just like you, as quickly as you were back in our lives, you were gone again. This time, permanently. The enigma strikes again. You died so suddenly on that Monday evening that it sat with me for days afterwards, where parts of my mind could not comprehend that you were gone.....and tonight, it all fell into place.
My brother Jason is dead today, and as I cry while I write this, and while I yearn for my brother, I feel somewhere inside me, that you did it. You fucking did it boet! You are out of that life. That life that mistreated you, the one you created. The life that created a misunderstood man, with a serious heart full of love. I won't paint just a rosy picture of you boet, because as much as I treasured spending time together these past few months, and as much as I cherish feeling love for you, there was a side of you that was a doos. You know it, I know it. Let's call a spade a spade right? You know what, I know that if you were standing in front of me right now, that I could say those words to you, and I know that for the first time I would feel no fear of an oncoming right hook, or a bitch-slap. That's the difference I think, between the you I grew up with, and the you that I knew recently.  I wish to God today that I could spend more time, getting to know the real you, getting to spend time listening to your stories, and hearing you laugh. But you did it, you are free. And we are here, thinking about you, missing you.

I believe Jason, that you have a heart that was never allowed to be as free as it should have been, because of the guise YOU built. Stubborn fool. The tough guy, the rebel, the joller. The racer, the drinker, the MAN! I also believe that you were a terribly lonely, and terribly lost man, but I WILL NEVER BELIEVE, NOT FOR ONE SECOND that you had a bad heart, or bad intentions. I believe my boet was actually a good man.

I will end this rather long winded emotional tirade off by saying that I miss you already, and my heart is broken that we will never spend time together again, as we should. I don't care of other's opinions of you, I don't care about your past. I care only for the really large hole you have left in my heart. I love you Jason Huckfield, and I am proud to say today that my brother and I started something that I never thought possible, and whether I read too much into it, or whether these were your intentions, those things are irrelevant, because you brought something back to my life, something that I never knew how much I wanted, and something that I never knew would fulfil me so much. Goodbye Jay, I truly love you, and I pray that your journey from hereon is as colourful as your life on this Earth was.

Until we see one another again, I am keeping your Castle in my fridge boet.