Bradford Pears

Five months after my brother Bradley passed he came to me in a dream of visitation. He had taken a very long time to visit, it seemed. Perhaps orientation in the afterworld was more grueling than anticipated. Anyway, I was sleeping in a friend’s basement, but I thought I was awake sitting on the couch reading.

When I looked to my right, there Brad was, big as life — finally not a bleary wispy dream Brad but my baby brother as big as day. I went to hug him and he put his hands up in panic: “no, you can’t touch me,” he said, “it’s not allowed.” But nothing could have stopped me and I threw my arms around his neck.

“When am I going to see you again???” I demanded. “As soon as you have a child,” he responded. Then I woke up, I was alone in the basement, there was no one with me on the couch.

Of course I ran out and got pregnant as fast as I could; giving the baby’s Brad’s nickname, Bradford, as his middle name. I waited in that hospital room with that tiny baby as patiently as though Brad was going to stroll into the room, beaming. I had done the impossible thing, now where was my brother?

Days passed, then weeks. Finally, I realized he wasn’t coming. How could this be? I had done what he asked — I had had the baby. And, of course my brother had to come meet his brand new perfect and amazing nephew?

Then one afternoon, exhausted from being up all night with a newborn, I was just settling down to a nap. In the brief fugue state before dropping off I spotted Brad across the mists of a lake. He was pulling heavy nets on the far shore into a boat. He was wearing the red baseball cap he used to always wear, the cap we had not seen since his terrible car accident.

He turned to see me, he smiled, gave one brief wave, then turned back to his task. I saw he had his new work, and, as the baby woke next to me and started to cry, I had mine.

I opened my eyes, and there, just outside the apartment window my gaze fell upon a great big blooming Bradford Pear tree.

Now, every spring, when the Bradford Pears are in bloom I know my brother is still with me.

(And now that baby is about to celebrate his 21st birthday and, yes, he does remind me very much in many ways of his uncle.)

ENJOY THE SPRING, MY FRIENDS. RENEWAL IS EVERYWHERE.