Reading through all these stories has given me pause, do I have a story that compares? Can my experiences do him justice!?
I’m not sure, but I think that is the beauty of Brian. He was the kind of person you could meet once or fleetingly, but he just left an impression on you. I have almost a flash of memories that come to mind, and because of our age difference there are some holes in our “remembered story”, but together I think they capture him perfectly.
My family is LARGE and I feel like you have to be one of us to truly grasp what our gatherings are like, but basically it is always like a gathering of old friends…the more time goes on the more friends we make.
When I was a kid, I was at my grandmothers (the hub at the time). I have always been the pickiest of eaters. My lunch cuisine at the time consisted of yogurt and PB&J. We were having a bbq, and there was a shellfish involved, could have been crab or lobster- all I know for certain was, I was not interested. We sat at a blue picnic table, Brian to my left. People were urging me to try it, and I was being my typical self. Brian shifted the conversation, he was typical cool calm collected unsuspecting Brian. I opened my mouth to speak and had a mouthful of food placed into my mouth. My instinct to spit it out was stopped because Brian was my older cooler cousin and so calmly said “seee nothing bad happened” I now love most seafood.
Here comes the holes in my memory, the flashes, but I remember spending time w him on Amelia Island. I think we attempted ten minutes of “surfing”, we drove somewhere, we discussed the ocean. I was 11, him 23. I don’t remember much, but he was cool and so easy to be around.
Next I was 26 years old ; him- 38. … we were at a carving station at my cousins wedding. There was a PIG, a WHOLE DEAD PIG, with delicious pork inside but I was hoping the charred pig was decor. Brian so happened to be next to me, I brought up my concern. He assured me, this was an actual former porky and then without hesitation asked the man at the carving station for the EAR. It was not on the menu. It was not something your average joe would be happy to have been served, but he got the damn ear. We sat at the table and I had my guard up because there was NO WAY I was letting him sneak a rogue pig ear into my mouth. He definitely gave me an “earful” about its deliciousness and a very convincing argument about trying it. Again, no thanks.
My last most profound memory of Brian was 3 short years ago. My grandmother was sick and close to passing. Brian called me, which was not a normal occurrence. Could be the first time we ever spoke on the phone actually. He said he wanted to see Aunt Jean, and he did. He made the four hour drive. At the time I remember thinking, wow our family is so big. I never thought of my grandmother as HIS aunt. It out into perspective a different kind of sorrow. Later that day, Brian and I sat on the couch, we just talked. We talked with ease and for a while I forgot the sad reason he was there. We were just old friends.
Brian was everyone’s old friend. He had the calming presence, the familiar face and the biggest heart. He wasn’t “chef Brian” to me, just cool Brian who tried to make me eat a pig and always made me smile. Cousin, you will be so very missed and I will look for your smile in every Kaywork room I enter.