“Having a brother is like having a built-in best friend.”
Note 201
My brother Denny is nine years older than me. Growing up, I never felt like I spent much time with him. If I did, I mostly remember him as a second version of my bossy dad—teasing me in my early years or quickly disappearing from home as he went off to high school and then the Navy.
As a teenager, I remember feeling a bit jealous of his abilities—he could do anything on the farm, he had a natural talent for telling funny stories, and he was always doing something special for Mom and Dad. Meanwhile, I saw myself as the selfish, oppositional one who always felt deprived.
Years later, after the factory where he worked shut down, I invited him, his wife, and their three children to California so he could work with me in my landscaping business—at least until he figured out his next step. That’s when I really got to know and appreciate him. I had expected him to be bossy or controlling, but working side-by-side with him in the hot summer sun proved otherwise. I realized he was just a hard worker, always had been. Looking back, I don’t think Dad ever fully understood how lucky he was to have such a responsible son.
Despite our different backgrounds and values, we never clashed. There was always a deep respect between us. Somehow, through all of life’s challenges—marital stress, raising kids, divorce, his daughter’s struggles, and his sons moving out of state—he remained steady. I’ve spent years counseling people and have a good sense of what stability and mental resilience look like. Denny is a rock.
I have so many memories of us working together in the heat—days when the temperature soared past 100 degrees, and we’d be dying for an ice-cold Big Gulp from 7-Eleven. I’ll never forget the times we had to sprint away from wasps’ nests while pruning hedges. After a long day’s work, we often sat back with a beer, a small ritual that always brought us closer.
Denny, I believe, has another very special talent — he “has never met a stranger.” Honestly, his efforts to engage with people sometimes annoyed me, especially when I was feeling impatient or preferred to keep to myself. Other times, I felt a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly he could draw others in and receive such positive responses. He’s definitely an extrovert!
Whether at work, on a plane, or in any new social situation, he always tried to strike up a conversation. He was never intrusive or prying — it always seemed like a genuine desire to get to know someone. He also had an intuitive sense of whether someone was open to talking or preferred their space.
I remember one time when he was sitting next to a man on a plane. True to form, Denny tried to start a conversation, no matter what he said, the man refused to respond. Despite all of Denny’s friendly attempts, the man remained closed off. I could tell Denny felt rejected, and it stayed with him.
But there were many other times when Denny’s warmth was met with equal kindness. On another flight, he struck up a conversation with an elderly woman who had been traveling alone. Within minutes, they were laughing and sharing stories. She told him about her grandchildren, and Denny shared memories of his own family. By the end of the flight, she thanked him, saying, “You’ve made this trip feel so much shorter and a lot less lonely.” It was moments like those that showed how powerful his simple acts of kindness could be.
I often think that if everyone had a little more of Denny’s warmth and openness, the world would be a much kinder and more connected place. People would feel seen, heard, and valued — just like Denny made so many of us feel over the decades.
Denny is the one who keeps our family connected. For the past thirty years, he and his wife, Karin, have hosted holiday gatherings, and I’ve rarely missed a Christmas at their home. Not many people know just how spiritual he is, but he doesn’t need to talk about it—he lives it. He’s always been the kind of person who practices kindness, generosity, and service. Whether it’s volunteering, donating, or simply being there for others, he never hesitates to help. I know he’s involved in a men’s group at his church, and that’s no surprise to me.
For the past six months, Denny has been struggling with intense pain in his back and legs. The doctors haven’t been able to do much for him, and he’s lucky if he can be on his feet for more than a few hours. I hear the frustration in his voice, the powerlessness he feels. Yet, somehow, he still copes. When I call him, he still cracks jokes, talks about life, and shows interest in me and everyone else. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably be clinically depressed, isolating myself and whining all the time. But Denny? He’s just not like that.
I once asked Denny not too long ago how he feels about dying. To my surprise, he said, “I’m ready to go. I have had a great and blessed life. I’m not sure I need to accomplish anything else—God has been good to me.”
EXERCISE
Maybe it is time for you to honor or pay tribute to someone in your family-even a friend or someone from the past that has had an impact on your life.
Remember, don’t act your age!