Rex's Journey

Larry and me with Rex a year ago 

My brother Rex turns 65 today.  Five years ago on his 60th we traveled to Olean and helped celebrate that milestone in a pavilion at the same park where we both learned to swim when we were kids.  My mom would have us walk up to the fire hall during the early mornings of summer, and from there we were bussed to the Olean pool just a few miles away.  I don't remember how many summers we took swimming lessons there, but we both became pretty good in the water.  That pool was eventually torn down and replaced with another.  I read that the rec center where the newer pool sits had to be closed this past summer for an overhaul. Just a reminder that time takes a toll on things.

Time has taken a toll on my brother as well.  Diagnosed with Parkinson's a little over 10 years ago, the disease has little by little worn my very active brother down. As time passed, leaving for work extra early in the morning and staying late wasn't enough.  His body was simply refusing to cooperate and he couldn't keep up on the workload.  So three years ago he did what he had tried with all his strength not to do.  He resigned his position and applied for early retirement.

The first year wasn't too bad.  He was still relatively active and able to climb the stairs to his room and shower on his own in the upstairs bathroom. But life is unpredictable and many times cruel.  A stroke right before Easter in the early spring punched him in the gut and knocked him to the ground. They called it a minor stroke, but coupled with the Parkinson's, it drastically changed his life.  A few weeks in a nursing home, trying to get his strength back, was probably the low point for him.  He was eventually released to return home, but life was not the same. The upstairs bedroom had been replaced with a hospital bed off the dining room and the shower was used only on the days when he was strong enough to climb the steps with help.

But neither has life been all bad.  In adversity, good things can happen as well.  A well-timed gift can come out of nowhere.  A long-time St. Bonaventure basketball fan, the university called, offered him season passes and a spot just beyond the court for his wheelchair with a good view so he wouldn't miss a thing.  For years he has been known as the Flag Man, cheering on the international students by waving their flags when they were on the court. The school now in turn expressed their appreciation for what he had meant to them, and they wanted him there. As far as I know, he made all the games, even when he didn't think he could.    

An article on "Flag Man" Rex Marvin,  from the Olean Times Herald in 2007

The two of us didn't always get along growing up.  It had nothing to do with age, we're only eleven and a half months apart.  But our interests and temperaments are pretty different.  Music was my thing, but he'd complain when I'd break out into song on a car trip which I did a lot.  I was the oldest and thus the responsible child and perhaps a bit bossy. He had more of a tendency to get into trouble, like almost burning the garage down when we were kids.  He liked matches and fireworks almost as much as I liked to sing.  But as time passed and we both began to grow beyond ourselves, I began to really like this brother who loved loud noises and Yankees baseball and amusement parks.         

One year minus 13 days between us 

Whereas time wears away at these bodies, it can do the very opposite within the spirit of a person. Perhaps it's more the awareness of the fragility of life as we age, or as we see those that we care about slowly fading before our eyes, that we finally get it.  For me, it was also the example of my sister, a schoolteacher with time off in the summer, who drove up from Maryland and spent two weeks spending time with, caring for and serving her brother during an especially difficult time.  He ended up being admitted to the hospital. 

A couple of days later we were sitting in his room with him. He was frustrated, close to tears, wondering what had caused this sudden spiral downwards, leaving him unable to do anything at all for himself. Just a few days earlier he had been on an upswing, even feeding himself without the uncontrollable shaking that comes with the disease. And now he couldn't even hold a simple utensil that lay beside the supper that sat on his hospital tray.  With that I picked up the silverware and began to feed him, one spoonful at a time, while with each bite I talked to him and encouraged him to continue on the best he could in this journey called Parkinson's.  And when he was finished I held him and prayed over him as he wept on my shoulder.

I hear that Rex is on the upswing once again.  He's getting around better, is feeding himself again, sleeping better and feeling more positive about things.  I'm glad the road's a bit smoother for him right now.  It's a nice place to be and I hope he's there for a long while.  Happy Birthday Rex. Continue on with your journey.  You're doing just fine.  
         

Rex's birthday present--He can get upstairs on his own!