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Tiny Whiney and Big Bear

Updated on May 2, 2013

My brain wouldn't let me go to sleep tonight. Thoughts racing through my head, rolled over, tried again, unsuccessfully.

I was drawn to the computer to jot down some notes, some thoughts, something.

I was born the youngest of five children, having two brothers and two sisters. I have many special memories of them all, but this one's about Art. He was the second eldest in the family and the oldest brother.

There were many Arts in my family. My brother, my dad, my grandfather, my uncle, cousin, and nephew all carried Art proudly as their first name. Each one unique, each one with his own special qualities.

Being the pest that I was, Art gave me the name of "Tiny Whiney", telling me that I whined about everything. He became affectionately known by me as "Big Bear". He was, after all, my big brother. I looked up to him, admired him. Thought he was "cool".

He used to like sleeping on the side verandah in the summertime, windows up to catch the nighttime breeze on a hot evening. He used to have vivid dreams and talk or growl in them a lot, thus the nickname of Big Bear. Of course my dad, another Art, blamed it on the pizza that Art loved to devour. Dad said that damn pizza made Art have bad dreams.

I often heard stories of what a wonderful hockey player Art was. He loved the game.

Art was always the "protective big brother" to me. He never wanted to see me hurt, and as he grew older, was never ashamed to show his emotions. He was kind and loving. One time he and my brother-in-law drove way up to Blind River, Ontario to "rescue" me and drive me back to Brockville. . I didn't hear one complaint about the length of the drive and the time it took them.

Art was one I could trust to be my confidante. He never judged me.

Generous is another word I would use to describe my brother Art. He loved to give. Christmases at Art's house was always a big event and celebration. His kids took hours to open the many, many gifts he went out and bought and wrapped himself. He took great joy in it and was very proud of each of his children. He would often tell me of their many talents and accomplishments.

I am very fortunate and blessed to have had Art as my older brother. I respect, admire, love and miss him. The world would be a better place if there were more "Arts" in it.



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