Ted

I was going to try and define Ted. But I can’t. There’s no one thing about Ted that can sum him up, no true name which would give you power over him. You can’t distill Ted into a few syllables. Ted is far more than that.

Ted is my brother. He was born two years after me, and I remember being pleased that we were born on the same day, the 10th. Yeah, it was two months and two years different, but to me it was the same. I remember being excited that I was getting a little brother. I remember standing next to Mom, putting out my finger for Ted to grab a hold of. I remember playing Mask with Ted in the hospital when Sam was being born. I kept saying to Ted, “Tell me more. Tell me more!” as he made things up and I lived them. I think, looking back, that Ted was the first person to take me to another place. Reading was okay, TV was neat, but playing in the back yard with Ted? It blew them away. The things we saw, the things we did. The villains we dispatched. The games we played. And even standing side by side in the midst of a labyrinth made of saplings, I knew that Ted and I saw the same thing. With Ted I was a hero.

I remember dismantling a car in our back yard. I remember comforting Ted when he was crying, usually ‘cuz I’d hurt him by being dumb. I remember being the big brother. And now, looking back on it, I can see Ted even then letting me be his big brother. Letting me be the main character. Letting me be the Hero to his side-kick. The gunslinger in the white ten-gallon hat to his sombrero.

I remember the last time Ted and I wrestled. The very last time. The first time Ted beat me. He looked down at me, pinned under his weight, and saw defeat in my eyes. I think it scared us both. I asked him about it later, and he said, “You’re my big brother. I can’t beat you.” We haven’t wrestled since.

Ted is my brother. He let me be his big brother for a long time. I’ll be his big brother forever. In my every memory of growing up, Ted’s there. It’s like he’s always been there. He’s been witness to my dreams, and by my side through nightmares.

But Ted is far more than that.

Ted is my friend. Two years younger then me, I was horribly offended when my friends invited Ted over without talking to me. It’s not that I didn’t like having him there, but I was scared. See, my brother is so cool, that why would my friends want to hang out with me? Laugh if you will, but I thought it. But by the time I realized that I didn’t mind Ted being with us, he was one of us. He wasn’t my little brother. He was Ted.

I remember Ted role-playing with us. His dashing, dynamic flare for combat making my life Hell and amusing the Hell out of everyone else. His sudden, desperate ideas that bailed everyone out of or in to trouble.

I remember bringing Ted to NERO, scared that he’d not like it, not have fun, and watching him excel. Seeing him run half a mile to stalk and kill a Kobald. I remember knowing that we would make it, we’d be safe, because Ted was there. With Ted, we were heroes. With Ted, we could do anything.

I remember walking into the house in Dover and seeing Ted crawling out, vomiting tequila.

I remember sitting with Ted. Watching TV with Ted. Playing games with Ted.

He was a companion when I didn’t want to be alone. Silent support when I didn’t want to talk. He was at my back, no matter what. He joined us when we thought we were whole, and showed us what we were missing. Ted is part of us.

But Ted is far more than that.

Ted is my hero. Wherever Ted goes, he’s comfortable. He knows who he is, knows perhaps better than anyone who Ted is. Who Ted can be. He creates his own style, not following anyone’s path. The shortest path between two points is a straight line, but Ted’ll take the long way around and beat you there.

Ted never wants to hurt another person. Ted wants everyone to be happy. Ted wants to just be himself. Ted just is.

Ted is funny. Ted is strange. Ted is brave. Ted is smart. Ted is fast. Ted is strong.
Ted is beautiful. Ted is miraculous. Ted is a mystery. Ted is the best.

Ted hurts.

I remember the look in Ted’s face when he told me he liked smoking a cigar when he thought, and he had a lot to think about recently. I remember knowing what he was talking about and being furious that the world, or God, would do something like that to Ted.

I remember the look in Ted’s eyes when I made him so mad that he took a swing at me.

I remember the look in Ted’s eyes when he told me that he had hated himself all through High School.

Ted loves.

I remember the look in Ted’s eyes when he told me that there was this girl that liked Sci-Fi that he was hanging out with.

I remember the look in Ted’s eyes when he told me that she chose him.

I remember all the things I’d love to say to Ted, all the things that Ted deserves to hear but I can’t say because I’m James. Because I’m my Father’s son and don’t know how to talk to anyone in person.

That he’s my brother.

That he’s my friend.

That he’s my hero.

That I love him, and I’d fuck up anyone who fucked with him.

That if he’ll let me, I’ll be his sidekick.

That I know how much he’s put up with from me over the years, and that I thank him for it.

That wherever we go, Ted, wherever this life takes us, I swear that I’ll be here for you.

Just like you’ve always been there for me.

I love you, Ted.

And I always will.