Band of brothers

Back in 1991, when Mom was losing her battle with breast cancer, one of the things she asked her three sons was to promise to never lose touch with each other.

I think it was her vision that the brothers would reunite every few years, hoist a few, arms locked around shoulders, singing John Denver tunes.

Unfortunately, as it usually does, life got in the way.

One son, me, was already living in North Carolina. The youngest son, Scott, was soon to live in Tennessee, then Iowa, and finally Oklahoma. The middle son, Dave, ended up spending more than 40 years in Alaska.

It was nearly an impossible promise to keep. And while in truth we never did lose contact with each other (promise kept), we never had that reunion of the three of us together. To this day, that is still an open possibility.

What did Mom expect? She and Dad created a family in Allentown, PA, then packed us up for brief tenures in Portsmouth, NH, East Hartford, CT (where Scott was born), and then back to Pennsylvania, a state where we moved three more times in just a handful of years. Indeed, our parents ended up in Wisconsin. It is where they are buried. Perhaps inadvertently, they handed down the wanderlust gene to their children. No wonder she worried we'd lose touch.

Technology helped. The brothers would call and chat with each other on holidays. Then we could text, which made contact even easier. About a year or so ago, my laptop beeped and I received a facetime call from Scott.  A what? But that was nice. Shortly after that, my cell phone beeped, I hit "answer," and I got a visual call from Dave. All of these things have brought us closer.

 Scott and I have reunited several times in person over the years, the latest event several years ago when he and his wife, Shelly, came to help me through my recovery after colon surgery.

But Dave was a different matter. He was soooo far away. Kim and I did see him in Anchorage back in 1992, and then saw him again in 1998 when he brought his toddler son Charlie to Allentown to be christened. But that was the last time we saw him in person.

Until yesterday. The cog wheels of time were gaining some traction. In his retirement, Dave returned to Allentown, having seriously reconnected with a high school friend, Linda, who sat at the desk in front of him in home room in high school. They now plan to be married. It's a great love story, one of those with a Hallmark happy ending, I think.

Anyway, they're on their way to Florida to visit one of Linda's friends. And yesterday, they showed up at our house to stay overnight. Maybe two nights. We'll see.

It's the first time I've seen Dave in 24 years...

(Excuse me for a moment. I'm a little verklempft right now. I need to take a breath...)

We're tying to pack a lot of things in a short amount of time. We gave them a brief tour of the house, then a brief tour of Lexington. We drove to Childress Vineyard and then had some barbecue. That night, they met some of our neighbors as we sat around the fire pit, watching the Final Four and sharing conversation. Everybody wanted to hear Dave tell them my secrets, and what was I really like? 

Dave and I broke away for a few moments to enjoy a couple of celebratory cigars and some personal time as we caught up.

Even this morning, I still can't quite grasp this moment, although I know it's here.

Now that Dave is back in Pennsylvania, the thought of a brothers' reunion is more real. Where? When?

Well, there is that wedding to plan for.

Mom would be delighted.