On the road of life...

there are potholes and pitstops. And there are people who chose a different path, like my brother, Emile. His mother met my father the same day we met each other. I would say that was a fateful day, although the influences on my life have faded into memory at this point. When my dad announced that he would be marrying the mother of Emile, I whined that I didn't want a brother. (I was only nine years old, and used to having my parents to myself.) I have a picture of Emile and myself on their wedding day, and I look as though I don't mind so much that I have someone to goof around with. We spent summers together and then 6th grade in Kansas City. We had skateboards, listened to ELO, watched the Dukes of Hazzard (secretly, because my stepmother thought it was too violent,) played D&D (you go 10, 20, 30 feet, and you come to a door...,) did chores for poker chips and got our first dog, who we named Bolt.

After sixth grade I moved to Washington, DC to live with my mom for three years. My parents have both been into transcendental meditation (TM) since I was born. While I lived in DC, my mom took part in a project where the meditators attempted to measure the effects of large groups of people meditating together on a regular basis on crime levels in the city. They even set up a school called the Age of Enlightenment school, which I attended for a year and a half. Meanwhile, Emile also went to a TM school where he lived with my dad and stepmother in Fairfield, Iowa. When we lived together again in Pennsylvania, Emile didn't want anyone at our school to know that our family was different in any way. He continued to meditate but we were far away from the community he had known in Iowa. We went to a private school, had a pool, got drunk for the first time together on the warm beer Emile had hidden in his closet and gin pilfered from our parents' dusty liquor supply (and replaced with tap water.) We had lots of good times, and sadly, plenty of bad times as our parents' marriage deteriorated. The object of much of my stepmother's anger, I was often running from the house in tears. Once, Emile held his mother back while I made my escape. He was always steady and fair minded, although I remember how when he was angry he would stomp around and clench his jaw and growl if you tried to tease him. He liked to joke around and have fun and he was the sweetest brother. He loved to tickle and torment our sisters, Eva and Tarah, who were little kids when we were in high school. Our family finally divided during my last year in high school. My dad and I moved into an apartment and eventually my stepmother moved herself and the kids back to Fairfield. Emile went back to the TM school there and graduated from the college, a meditator thru and thru.

For the last few years (or more?) Emile has been in a TM program in which he spends most of his time meditating, studying the Vedas, and living simply, like a monk. Although I have seen my dad and sisters every year or so, my path has not intersected Emile's in a long time. This year, he was able to go to India where he got to meet pundits (Hindu scholars,) meditate in an ashram and see an amazing country. My dad forwarded on some photos and I had to laugh. My brother, the monk! Still wearing silly glasses, but now with a lot more hair!