No Happy Valentine's Day

I walked down the aisle of the drug store today and thought about the years I searched for the perfect Valentine card for my sweetheart. February 14 was the one day when Barry gave me a love note. He never wrote me a love letter or any letter because we were never apart. 

On Valentine's Day, however, he always remembered and gave me a beautiful card with the perfect sentiment printed inside. But it was not just the words written there that touched me. Barry took this opportunity to write me a love note. I kept them all. 

Our last Valentine's Day together was in 2009. What a sad day. My youngest brother, Rex, died suddenly that day. Barry had been suffering from cancer for the past year. We did not have any idea that he, too, would die within the next few months. 

The Council Brothers - Rex, left front, is the youngest, 14 or 15 in this photo

I went down home for Rex's funeral service. I couldn't stop crying. Barry was too ill to go with me. He would have been there otherwise, for he loved Rex. For many years we rode to Athens, Georgia with Rex and his wife for every football game. We spent many weekends together. I don't think there was anyone in this world who didn't love Rex Council. He was a quiet man, but when he spoke, we listened. He had a terrific sense of humor and could tell good stories, but he was not outstanding in a crowd. Our best times were sitting across from each other in a restaurant where he drank lots of sweet iced tea. When he called me on the phone, we talked for an hour or more. 

My brother liked to travel by car, and I think he saw every corner of this great United States. He also was a pilot. He was an interesting person to talk with because he was a life-long learner as I am. We didn't always have the same political views or opinions, but we loved each other. 

He was the brother who had no qualms about taking care of our mother. He didn't send his wife when it was his time to be caregiver. At the hospital when she was in ICU, he would go in and ask questions of the nurses. When he found a problem, he didn't hesitate to have them call her doctor. One night he saved Mother's life by insisting the doctor be called when her blood pressure soared. 

He studied alternative medicine and, although he seldom practiced what he preached, he knew what to do for most ailments. I have written a story about Rex and our trip to Colorado for a ski trip. It shows his tenacity and confidence in his own ability, even if it meant driving through a blizzard. I will include that in my memoir.

Below is a poem I wrote about Rex and that awful time in my life when I lost my dear brother and my beloved husband within six months. 

Foreboding

At visitation last night, dressed

in a blue suit, you seemed asleep

while friends and loved ones

talked about the man they knew.

Your presence filled the room.

I pressed your cold hand to my lips,

patted your broad chest, ached for your

big bear hug and gentle voice. 

A waterfall of tears fell like all the years

that slipped away too soon.

I came alone. I had to leave

my own beloved, your good friend, at home.

Bitter omen of what lay ahead.

While I mourned you, My Brother,

a raven loomed above my mountain door.

By Glenda Council Beall