Brother Love Traveling Show

Brother love traveling show is traveling to Greenleaf to shine a light on Jeff.

Don't forget your stick or candle for the fire ceremony. It will sort of be like a candlelight vigil -- but LOUD.

Jeff wanted fireworks and dancing ladies but this is the best we can do. Since we can't shoot off fireworks does anyone know if popcorn tossed in the open fire will pop, or will it just burn? Or what would light up, sizzle or pop in a fire? I'm not enough of a chemist to know. I might bring bacon.

We will surround the fire pit with sticks, candles, mementos, prayers, and thoughts of gratitude and love. Jane will be in charge of the dancing ladies, right Jane?

...however I doubt there will be dancing naked in the moonlight.

Jeff wasn't a genius, he wasn't famous, he wasn't rich, what he was was a father, brother, uncle, cousin, and friend. He made us happy. We smiled and laughed in his presence. How many people can claim that? We stood in awe of his powers of wit and humor, of his turn of phrase.

We are going to whoop it up for Jeff.
Jeff would for any of us.
This won't be one of those silent, respectful vigils.
Remember,
This is for Jeff.

Jeff's ashes will be brought to Greenleaf, his remains will remain there forever. A place he loved and delighted in. Like Jeff, Greenleaf isn't rich or famous, but he loved claiming it as the repository of so many of his beloved memories. He always said, "It's not the best or most beautiful place in the world, but it's where my families memories are. It's where we go to celebrate." A lifetime of memories, even more memorable now with Jeff always sharing our joy.

A memento I'm bringing to burn is a bamboo stalk I plucked from the Greenleaf swamps when Jeff, Jason, Jerry and I hiked the perimeter of the lake. The one where Jeff decreed that " anything over eight miles is a backpacking trip, not a hike." The one where Jason't feet hurt so so bad he couldn't take one more step -- until -- we got to the end and he started to play. He ran up the bank, down the bank, throwing rocks and sticks, chasing ducks -- sore feet forgotten -- Ah, youth.

That was the New Year's Eve trip that was freezing and icy. The cabins lost power. We drank Jerry's 30 year old scotch out of Tupperware coffee cups. We might of got a bit sloshed.

The cardinals were in town and every tree along the river's edge had flocks of bright red cardinals, hundreds of them on the bare tree branches. It was pretty. Jean made a hearty stew for us to gorge on when we exited out of the woods and we hardly ate. Too tired. We did consume massive amounts the next day.

One of my favorite experiences on one of my favorite days.

I said sixteen miles, Jeff said how ever many miles I claimed, he would agree to it. Oh, Jeff, you will be missed. That's the day I discovered my brothers healthy "respect" for snakes.

On the day of the hike the icy weather warmed up beautifully after a mile or two of trudging, but oddly, when we stopped to snack, eat, rest or pee it got colder, then miraculously when we started hiking it warmed up again. I was amazed  -- until my brothers explained to me the principle of exercise creating body heat. Show-offs.

That bamboo stalk has reminded me for 25 years what I was capable of and Jeff's part in it. His willingness to share the experience with joy. It is going in the fire. At least I think I am bringing it if I can get it past the TSA agents. Try explaining a dusty, dried, shriveled up 25 year old bamboo stalk to them. "You want to do what?" Yes, sir, it is for a fire ceremony. Jeff would love it.

Make it loud.
Make it proud.

Make it Jeffilicous.