I have been planning on writing about the economic bailout plan when I had a free moment and working internet, but I found out today my brother Jon had a pulmonary infarction and almost died and somehow I don't have as much to say about the bad bailout plan.
Charlotte, his wife, has most of the details on her blog. He went in for chest pain and they thought it was an inflammation of the lining of the chest cavity, but it turned out to be blood clots lodged in his lungs. He is on blood thinners at the hospital and is feeling better. It looks like he is going to be fine.
Jon and I used to fight a lot as kids. I mean fight until blood was spilt, not just bickering. We did a lot of that too. When I moved out for college he and I started to get a long better and better. A little space and maturity helped us both. He used to write me on my mission and sign his letters, " Keep on trucking, From Jon, You know, your brother Jon." As if I could forget him.
He came and lived with Leila and I in Texas for a summer after his mission. He and I rode our bikes to work each day and I watched in wonder as he ate twice more than I thought physically possible. He also could fall asleep at any time, in the wierdest positions. He and I really became friends that summer.
He was dating this girl whose family lived in the ward. I was teaching primary at the time. One Sunday, her Dad came up to me in the hall and grabbed me by the arm. He spoke very slowly and deliberately.
He said, "Bro. Gardunia, I know you have been hanging around with my daughter and I want to know what the heck is going on. "
I said something like, " Bro. _____ , my brother is living with me, my single, return-missionary brother. I think you might have us confused."
His grip lightened and he seemed to deflate. He kept saying, " You have a brother. You have a brother."
Yes, I have a brother. He went back to Idaho, met his wife and has proceeded to exceed all expectations for his life.
I am glad he is doing better.