DEAN

It had been only three months and seventeen days since I turned two years old. I already had a big sister four years older than me. Judy.

Now, on this particular day, another sibling arrived in our home. A little brother. Dean.

And as the subsequent years began to unfold, so did our personalities. Dean developed an artistic skill early on, passing the time in his childhood with a pencil and pad, creating drawings that I could never match, but only envy.

Through school, I was a bit of a loner while Dean connected easily with his peers.

As young adults, I picked up a guitar and learned about a dozen chords. To this day, I still pluck about a dozen chords. But I taught those few chords to Dean who took them, learned them, expanded upon them, and who ultimately exploded into a masterful musician and builder of musical instruments.

As our personalities presented themselves through our middle-aged years, it was Dean who took on a level of compassion and loyalty that stirred my admiration. Year after year, he stayed in close proximity to an aging grandmother and watched out for her and cared for her until shortly after her 94th birthday, when she passed on. He was always there for Nonny.

And now, every month or so, my phone rings. It is Dean. He is calling to see how I’m doing and to share what’s going on in his life. He’s usually busy with his music. He’s consistently checking in with his brother. He continues to be what he has always been – my talented and loyal little brother.

And today is his birthday.


This is a caricature that Dean sketched of me shortly after I outgrew my teen years. He had just graduated from high school when he drew this in 1970.




Three siblings getting ready to get in the car with Nonny (1956)




The three of us, again, beside the fireplace on Glenbrook Drive (1957, or so)




Two brothers in our grandparent’s Santa Rosa backyard (1961)





Playing music at our mother’s memorial service (2004)




Exploring a cave together in Hilo, where Dean makes his home (2007)