Russ Was There

    We lost my brother-in-law today, Reed's youngest brother, Russ. He had been struggling with breathing problems for a couple weeks and was taking medication for pneumonia. The friend who came to check on him at his apartment today found he had passed away. Losing Lambs has become much too familiar a pattern. If his service includes a time to share thoughts about Russ, this is what I would want people to know.

   There are a lot of things I couldn't tell you about Russ. I don't know what kind of music he listened to, what he watched on TV, or even his favorite food. But I can tell you what made him great, I can tell you about his heart. Russ had a heart problem. He had a tender heart that cared about people but he didn't want anyone to find out about, what he considered, his weakness. But I know about Russ' heart because when my brother Roddy started high school and was getting picked on the way the special ed students always do, Russ, who was younger than Roddy but much bigger, spread the word that if anyone picked on Roddy, he would beat on them. For Roddy, for our family, Russ was there. One of the first things we did when we moved back to Montana, was take a trip to Glacier Park. We had to take Britten, she was our baby, but for some reason we decided to take Russ and Roddy with us. I knew Russ was dyslexic, but I didn't know it extended to doing the opposite of whatever he read on the sign. If it said, DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS, Russ did. If it said, DO NOT GO off the trail or beyond the guard rails, Russ was there.

     When we bought our first house in Kalispell, we had an elderly neighbor whose house was in desperate need of painting. We told her if she could buy the paint, we would put it on for her. Not wanting to hog the blessing of that good deed to ourselves, we invited our families in Missoula for the paint party. For us, for our neighbor, Russ was there. And when Russ found out I was battling depression, more than 30 years ago, he started calling me weekly to see how I was doing. For that dark time, for me, Russ was there. 

    After working 30 plus years cleaning at Community Hospital through various employers, Russ was both physically mentally burnt out. He could have gone on disability for the many lingering effects of the severe head injury he had 40 years ago, but disability didn't need him and the hospital still did so, he just stayed at the job. For the work that needed to be done, Russ was there. Nearly three years ago, during his Dad's final days home on hospice, for his Dad, for his family, Russ was there. And just a couple weeks ago when his Mom's water heater broke and soaked the basement, though he was having difficulty breathing even then, he helped Richie get the wet carpet out. For his Mom, for his brother, Russ was there.

    Russ was the third of four children and middle children sometimes have a hard time finding their way. Being neither the over achieving firstborn, nor the baby, middle children are more likely to be left behind when the rest of the family piles in the car. Not that I'm complaining about being a middle child myself, or confessing to anything that happened with our middle child. Sometimes middle children even prefer the anonymity of getting lost in the shuffle. Sometimes they are content with being just there. Though Russ preferred to stay quiet and in the background, and would be really embarrassed about all the nice things people are saying about him now, when it counted, when it mattered, Russ was there. And in our hearts, he always will be.