A requiem

I lost a brother yesterday morning in a terrible car accident.

The usual problem with rural New Mexico roads: impaired people howling 80+ miles per hour down a two-mile slope, no brakes, just plowing into my brother who was only 300 feet from his house.

My brother died instantly, or nearly.

The kid who hit him is in hospital.

I’m not Christian enough to hope he lives. I hope he dies too, and takes away a marginal bit of stupidity out of the gene pool.

On the same day, four other people lost their lives in traffic fatalities around the Four Corners area. We Southwesterners tend to shrug it off, just as we now shrug off gun violence.

My brother was one of the best of my family, and I will be processing this for the rest of my life. It could very well have a domino effect in my family, so some of us are trying to forestall that.

In the meantime, don’t fucking drink and drive. Hug the people and entities you love. If you don’t have anyone, find some: it may save your life. Do beautiful, kind, meaningful things. Those of us who are left need to make a better future.

My brother was a chemical engineer, rockhound, and amateur archaeologist who helped map and preserve ancient Native sites in the Four Corners area. He was a classical and prog-rock guitarist. A very private writer with many secrets. A friend to all dogs.

He took me hiking so many times: Crouch Mesa, the banks of the Animas River, the canyons above Navajo Lake, the Bisti Badlands, Chaco Canyon, the Rockies above Vallecito Lake. The above embroidery was inspired by photos we took in the 80’s on the Colorado Plateau.

2 Comments on "A requiem"


  1. Dear Marian, I am so sorry for your loss. Please be gentle with yourself while you mourn. Losing someone close hurts so much.
    Lorna

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