Memories of Jim

(disclaimer: memories are brittle and fleeting)

My brother Jimmy passed away around noon Beijing time last Sunday, July 9, 2023. He was 72 or 73 years old.

Very few people really know us for our entire life. Parents, older siblings. One of my earliest memories was with him. Not a clear memory, a feeling, an impression. Joy, fun, safe. I was maybe three and in his bedroom which was in my parents basement. It was a place of music and coolness and expressiveness. Later that year, another memory. Trama. A fight of some kind. He’s leaving home. Kicked out. Again, no concrete memories but a dire dark feeling. Shaping experiences.

I didn’t see much Jimmy for the next few years. Christmas. Thanksgiving. I remember maybe in the third grade there was a school performance show. I was playing a shark and needed a costume. It really worried me. Jimmy, who was living in Daly City at the time heard about it and told my mom he and his roommate would make me a costume. My anticipation ran high. Jimmy and his roommate showed up with the costume a few hours later. A bed sheet with a shabbily drawn shark’s mouth. In hindsight, he seemed off, maybe high. I was disappointed and can’t say as a 9 year-old I was very appreciative.

I remember visiting that Daly City apartment. Him showing me the letters Leslie Gore wrote to him. Saying he had some good lyrics and he should connect with a music creator to put it together. He would go on to self publish four or five CDs. We would cruise around Oalkand in his little Saturn and he’d casually pop in his CD. I can’t say his musical stylings intersected with my taste but I loved his dedication and passion. I can’t imagine the courage it took him to do an open mic in Concord after the release of his first CD.

I remember him taking Matt, Joe, Pat, and me on a BART ride from Daly City into The City. BART was new and it was wonderous from the ticket machines, to those turnstiles, to the cars themselves. We ate a Chinese restaurant somewhere in the city. I remember not likeling the chicken wings much since I could see the veins.

In sixth grade, I took BART with him again, this time to Oakland. As we walked to his apartment, I made a comment about the litter on the street. He said that’s what people who don’t know the city say; that in fact cigarates are biodegradable. His apartment was full of all the cool things and records. Lots of records. He had a laser disk. We watched a movie (Alien?). I slept on the coach and it was curios when Jim and his roommate - Dennis? - went into the same bedroom and looked like the same bed.

The Christmas and Thanksgiving visits were highlights. Jim knew about music. About movies and TV. About stuff I liked our would learn to like. He seemed generally interested. Made us feel at the center. That what we cared about mattered. As we got older, we’d trade TV shoes and books. I would see him connect with his nephews and nieces in the same way.

When I was maybe 18, my brother Pat and I went to an A’s game on on the way home from the game Pat’s car, a massive blue station wagon, broke down in the middle lane of 880. We got it towed to a gas station. Repair estimates. We didn’t have the money to pay for it. Somehow we knew Jim lived nearby (with Marianne I believe). We walked up a pretty sketchy street to his place. I kind of remember being inside. Lots of pillows. Interesting vile in the fridge. Then in the car with Marianne and Jimmy driving to the gas station. Marianne and Jimmy having an adult conversation about how to handle it. One or two $100 bills came out. Beyond my imagination. Car repaired.

In my 20s, there’s the time I took Mimi to meet Hillard and Jimmy at their apartment in Oakland. He talked about family a lot. Stories about who was doing what. Gossip.  In late 20s, I helped him move out from the apartment with Hillard. It seemed like a normal thing..he was moving..I should help. Later, I realized what a big step that was for him. When I was 30 or so, I moved in with Jimmy for a few months and slept on his coach. He’d get home from his stint at the post office after midnight and I’d be asleep or pretend to be asleep. He’d move around the apartment so quietly as not to bother me. He had not started dating yet, so he was surprised when I said I was ready to date again. He suggested a woman 20 years my senior, and no offense, but that wasn’t really my thing.

I ended up moving into my own apartment in Oakland, about five minutes from his. Mine was a bit sketchier than his apartment but he always made me feel it was a cool place. During these years he talked about his work at the post office a lot. It wasn’t happy talk. Years passed and I think he made peace with it or at least could manage it. His final years at the post office he made some genuine friends.

Jim had a bit of a renaissance starting in his late 40s. His 50th birthday party was kind of a “I’m back” moment with his new tribe of friends in a restaurant down by the lake. That year was a bit of a renaissance for me too and I remember feeling cool being cool with Jim’s friends and Yang.

I didn’t know what to make of it when he told me he was running at Lake Merrit. Running and Jimmy didn’t go together. He would run for a minute. Walk for two. Run. Then walk. Over time he build up the amount of time he could run and I want to say he eventually made it around the entire lake. And let’s be clear, a major motivation was what he would call “eye candy” around the lake. He joined 24 hour fitness, and would go after his late night post office shift ended. With resistance training endless selfies ensured.

When Mimi passed, when I lost her, Jim spoke to me softly. Didn’t press me to talk but let me know help was available and that I didn’t need to deal with it alone.

Jim had a few boyfriends and man crushes we met. At a Chinese restaurant in Milipatas and his date’s reaction to rice balls for desert. Anticipation waiting for a potential date while in line for a showing of the the Blair Witch Project. Lamar showed up shortly after that and as far as I know was Jim’s first long term relationship since Hillard.

Jim had a remarkable ability to detect people flirting with him. It seems baristas in particular liked his style. His dating became, shall we say, more prolific.

After we moved to China, I’d see Jim on most of my trips back which was a few times a year. We’d grab dinner or spend time with my parents and then my dad. Often, we’d just hang out for the afternoon. Hit up Peets, then a bookstore, then some shopping. Just driving around. Talking family and life.

Jimmy visited China in 2017. It was on this trip, I really noticed his COPD. He was moving slowy, needing to catch his breath every few minutes. Somehow, we walked along the Great Wall, through Forbidden City, and along the Bund in Shanghai. He got see where I live here and a bit of what my life here is like. And he got to learn that I really can’t speak Chinese.

Jimmy’s relationship with my Dad is not describable in a word or a paragraph.

I remember when Jimmy (25?) went on a cross continent van trip only to run out of money in New York City and called my dad for air fare to get home. My Dad loaned him the money and never forgot that Jimmy did not repay the loan. I was amazed Jimmy would asked for it.

I’m was sitting with my Dad in early Feburary, 2017. I mentioned to my Dad that it was Jimmy’s birthday. My dad, who would pass 10 months later, got upset. Frustration, sadness, at forgetting Jimmy’s birthday. He picked up the phone and called Jimmy.

There are not many who know us for our entire lives. My dad knew Jimmy for his and Jimmy for mine.