Brotherly Love

Andrew Coatsworth
December 3, 2014

Monday. Just like any other Monday, I woke up grumpy, tired and less than thrilled to
be heading to school. After slogging through my morning routine, I hugged my mom goodbye as
she wished me good luck on my calculus quiz. Before I hopped in my car, I scratched Madisons
head while she perched on her ramp that my dad constructed for her when she became too weak
to make the two-step climb onto the deck. She wagged her tail and then dozed off as I backed
out of the driveway.
As I pulled into the lot, my morning rituals continued; finding a parking spot at the
Mormon church (I could never bring myself to pay for the ridiculously priced school parking
spots), making the mile long trek to the commons, and sitting with my buddies to discuss the
previous nights sporting events. As always, the bell rudely interrupted us at 8:45 sharp. We all
groaned and made our way to first period, but at least we had the Monday schedule to look
forward to, all six classes crammed into one day. The day flew by uneventfully until fifth period
physics, by far my least favorite class. In order to reduce the stress of my senior year schedule,
my parents suggested that I avoid AP Physics and instead opt for the standard placement course.
It bored me. After I managed to make it past the 50-minute speed bump in my day, the standard
Monday continued. When the final bell rang, I bolted for the after school commons determined
to get the last word in the football debate that had been sitting idle since lunch. One of my
friends, Eamon, couldnt stop trash talking about our heated fantasy football game. Once I felt
that I finally convinced him that the Monday night game would save my team, I began my hike
back to my car.
Madison, still perched atop her ramp, gave me the standard tail wag as stepped out of my
car. I left the French door open behind me so she could eventually follow me in. From the
kitchen I heard her slowed and labored steps, paws clicking against the hardwood. Her bark

startled me as I prepared her pills. She knew this as the time she got to scarf down human food.
I finished wrapping the pills in ham, ignoring her impatient cries for the snacks.
My mom arrived home from work early that day. Madison didnt notice her car as she
drove up. When my mom walked in the door I knew what she was about to tell me. I could see
it in her face.
I made an appointment for Maddy, she said forcing her words through her tears, Its
tomorrow.
Fighting back tears of my own, I only managed to choke out Why? But I knew why. I
knew that my family had to make this decision. After breaking the news to me, my mom left the
room to call my older brother, James, a freshman at the University of Washington, to break the
news to him. The countdown began and time started slipping away.

Before my third birthday my mom finally convinced my dad to move our family out of
the cow town of Duvall to the more family friendly Bainbridge Island. With my James and me
in mind, they decided on a house in a quiet neighborhood with a giant yard. Soon after the
move, we decided to complete our transformation to the picturesque middle class family and get
a yellow lab puppy. My mom, just as she had meticulously researched our new home, found a
highly regarded breeder nearby in Port Townsend.
My brother and I couldnt wait to escape our car seats as we pulled up to the farm.
Fixated on the cloud of yellow fur balls, my parents freed us from the back of the car and we ran
off to investigate. As my parents followed us towards the puppies, James announced, I want
this one. My mom delicately explained that we already had a dog picked out. With the

paperwork complete and all of the questions answered, we were on our way home as a new
family.

The perfect family is merely an illusion. No matter how flawless a family may appear,
there are constant blemishes and growing pains. Whether it is two siblings fighting or a family
dealing with a puppys destructive habits, there is always more to the story.

James got a red cash box and I got a blue cash box. James knew the code to my cash box
but I could never figure out his. He always saw an opportunity to add to his wealth while I
constantly spent mine. Often times my lack of funds resulted from a transaction with James.
One night, he capitalized on a chance for a quick sale. A turtleneck of his began to unravel at the
sleeves. Rather than asking my mom to fix it, he cut the cuffs off of the sleeves and sold them
both to me for one dollar apiece. When my mom came up stairs to tuck me into bed, she laughed
as she asked me why I had ratty grey cuffs around each one of my wrists.
I bought them from James, I said proudly.
For how much?
Two bucks.
She left my room and immediately walked into James. I could hear their brief
conversation through the wall. My mom then walked back in, my money in her hands and she
told me to take the cuffs off.

Madison, like any other puppy, loved chewing anything that she could get her needle
sharp teeth on. One of her favorites happened to be my diaper. For what seemed like hours, she
would chase me around our front yard taking nips at my diaper with James occasionally stepping
in with an attempt to steal Madisons attention.

Madison is my dog, James said as we sped down the highway. Flustered by his
comment, I struggled to respond. Before I could think of anything, my mom quickly intervened
to end the conversation.
Madison is our familys dog.
Her words reaffirmed what I already knew, but it bothered me that James thought about
things that way.

Madison was hardly ever home alone during her puppy years as my mom felt that we
should take her wherever we went. My dad knew better than to argue. After being locked in the
car for nearly two hours on our way to a firefighter family picnic, Maddy wasted no time
escaping her confinement. Before anyone had a chance to put her leash on, she sprinted toward
the river. Picnic quickly became a disaster. As we all tried to chase her down, onlookers
gathered as she dove into the water with the current dragging her away. Fearing the worst, James
and I began to scream and my mom started crying. My dad, stripping down ready to dive in after
her, was stopped by one of his friends.
Is that a lab?

My dad nodded.
Let her be, shell figure it out for herself.
Maddys oversized paws finally kicked into action. With her snout barely above the
water, she bobbed and paddled her way back to the riverbank.

Eventually my parents figured that Madison could stay unattended in the laundry
room. On the first trial run we returned home to find a hole chewed and pawed through the
drywall. The hole remained there for about ten years, a mark of her puppy phase.

When I was in kindergarten, my family took vacation to Maui. Sitting in the ferry line on
Bainbridge, my mom unveiled two brand new GameBoy Colors; a lime green one for me and a
neon orange one for James. My parents figured that James and I wouldnt be able to make it
through the flight without a major distraction. We sat separated in our massive grey leather
captains chairs in the back of the new Suburban. While I struggled to get mine to work, he
smugly enjoyed his new game. Then came my whining. With the vacation off to a less than
stellar start, my dad groaned from the front seat, James, help your brother. James responded
by showing me his GameBoy but failed to provide any advice. I eventually figured it out on my
own.

Will Madison be alive when Im in high school? I asked. My mom took a second to

decide how to answer this incredibly difficult question.

Ive heard of labs living into their high teens but you shouldnt worry about that now.
James cut into the conversation, Shell be alive.

As we got older, we found more creative and constructive ways to have fun: building
forts in the nearby woods, three-on-three whiffleball games with the neighbors or late night
games of cops and robbers. Yet the structure would usually evolve into some sort of free-for-all
chaos. As the older brother, James took it upon himself to ensure that I knew my place.
Once, amidst all of the chaos, and Asian pear rocketed square into my back. Assuming
James to be the culprit, I angrily stormed off. Maddy happily cleaned up the explosion of fresh
fruit discovering a new source of food. From that point on, she would happily scarf down a few
pears in between meals.

Tragedy is unpredictable and ruthless. It has no mercy. Yet for as much suffering tragedy
can inflict, there is always reason to persevere. Where there is pain there will also be healing and
growth.

James and I went through cycles. Sometimes we acted like real brothers and other times
we could hardly speak to each other. This continued on through high school. We would pass one
another in the hallway and barely make any acknowledgments. He rarely attended my sporting

events and I stopped going to his.

After a long week of basketball practice, two away games in Seattle and three exams,
tragedy struck. My mom woke me up that Sunday morning by raising my blind revealing the
cold but clear winter day. She sat on my bed and broke the news.
Grandpa Coatsworth had a stroke yesterday. Your dad is on a plane to Hawaii. Its
really bad.
I didnt know what to say or do. My mind went dark. Staring straight up at the white
ceiling, the tears started to run down my face. I figured that I had seen my grandpa for the last
time.
When I finally managed to form words I asked, Does James know?
Yeah, he knew last night.
My tears continued during church. I was unable to cope with the thought of losing the
smartest man I had ever known and my secondary father figure. My brother, mom and I sat
silently on the old wooden pew that over the years had become our own. The sun beamed
through the brightly colored stained glass windows. In the distance, Pastor Lori began her
sermon. Despite her loud and bubbly tone, her words didnt register with me. I could only think
about my grandpa. James noticed the pain in my face and said to me in the most confident tone,
Everything is going to be ok. Although brotherly love was still somewhat of a foreign concept
to us, if I really needed him, I knew that James would be there for me.

Fully in her decline years, I could feel my time with Madison drawing to an end. Her
lipoma covered body failed to parade as it once did, cataracts plagued her eyes and she was

practically deaf. James would lie on the floor with her every night before she went to sleep in an
attempt to comfort her. However, after years of pills to ease her aching joints, her sanity started
to escape her. She barked at anything that moved and began refusing meals. Yet, she kept
fighting and despite her disabilities, her happiness never came into question.

Bainbridge High School Mens Basketball Senior Night. James never played very much
and my dad credited that to his lack of a jump shot. Yet he scrapped enough and was willing to
do enough dirty work to find a spot on the varsity team. This was his night. His one and only
start of his varsity basketball career. Bainbridge has a tradition on senior night. The seniors run
onto the court as they are introduced over the loud speaker holding flowers for their moms and
trying to look tough for their dads.
6 4 forward, James Coatsworth, the loud speaker boomed and the crowd cheered.
Here for James tonight are his mother, Debbie and standing in for his father, his brother
Andrew.
I felt a lump in my throat as James and I pulled in for one of those cool high fives
where you lock hands and slap each others backs. Why did my dad have to be in Hawaii for
this? Why did grandpa have to have a stroke? Why us?

My mom and I met James in downtown Seattle. We were headed to see my grandpa for
the first time since his stroke. As we entered the hospital, I had no idea what to expect.
Throughout the months after my grandpas stroke, my dad always seemed a bit down. His mood

started to wear on my mom, brother and me. When we saw Grandpa, it all made sense. He
looked like a different man, the stroke added about 15 years to his face. The facial droop left his
mouth slanted to the left and his left eye refused to cooperate with his brain. Yet when he saw
us, he seemed to perk up. Seeing us made his day. Although the conversation was brief, James
and I were both relieved to see him progressing towards a recovery. We said our goodbyes as he
squeezed each one of our hands, a nod to his classic greeting, Dont gimme a fish (demanding
a firm handshake).
After leaving the hospital, we went to go visit James new fraternity. Soon after James
moved into his dorm at UW, he decided that he couldnt live there. He flew through the rush
process and ended up in Beta Theta Pi. We walked through the massive brown front doors and I
quickly noticed a very distinct smell, something of a cross between a hotel and a dumpster.
James gave a quick tour ending on the freshman sleeping porch. My mom and I were both
shocked at the sight of 32 mattresses sprawled across the floor of a giant room.
You live here? my mom asked rhetorically.

August, the time for our annual family vacation to Bandon, a small city on the Oregon
coast. We always set an ideal departure time of about 9:00 AM. Something always prevents this.
My dad forgetting to turn the overhead light in the car off thus draining the battery. My mom
realizing that she forgot to pack something, usually a lot of somethings. This year was different.
9:00 AM: we were pulling out of the driveway. The boat loaded with suitcases, golf clubs, the
electric smoker (my dad has become known for his smoked salmon) trailed behind the Suburban,
Madison in the way back, James in lounging in the back bench seat, me in the captains chair and

my parents up front. As we pulled on to Day Road, about 30 seconds from our driveway, my dad
pulled to the side of the road to answer his phone.
Hey mom, he answered.
Silence.
Mom, hes having another stroke.
Silent panic.
Can I talk to him? Does he know what day it is? Is he making any sense?
What a great start to a vacation.
After a painfully quiet ten-hour drive, we finally made it to Bandon. It turned out that my
grandpa actually suffered a transient ischemic attack, basically a 'mini-stroke.' After receiving
the proper medical attention, the doctors sent him home. Our relief didn't last long. The
following day, Madison's legs decided to stop working. James and I traded off carrying her
outside to let her go to the bathroom. I thought this would be the end but like always, she
bounced back. Although she regained her mobility, I knew that my family would soon be faced
with a very difficult decision.

Tuesday. The day I had been dreading. Everything that day had blurred until I started
my car to drive home to see her one final time. It started to pour as I neared my house.
Windshield wipers at full speed, wheels hydroplaning, none of it fazed me. I couldnt focus on
the road. Somehow I made it home. She was in the TV room. During the day she watched a
Clint Eastwood movie with my dad and got her favorite dog treats from the local bakery. I sat
with her, tears streaming down my face, paralyzed by sadness.

I have to take her now, my dad told me somberly.

I couldnt bring myself to go to the vet. I told her that I loved her one last time before my
dad carried her out to the car. Sitting motionless on the couch, random memories from her life
popped into my head intensifying my pain. I couldnt move, couldnt think straight and couldnt
stop crying.
The sun broke through the cloudy sky as my parents drove up. We reflected on all of the
good times.
That night James and I exchanged texts.
How are you holding up? he asked.
OK. What about you?
This sucks but shes in a better place now.
Yeah, I know. It might sound corny but in an Eminem song he says, Instead of
mourning your death, Id rather celebrate your life. Thats how we gotta look at this.
So true.

Everything moved fast after we put Madison to sleep. I wanted another dog and my
parents, although hesitant at first, quickly joined my side.
Im not sure if I can deal with this again, my mom said to my dad, holding back tears.
You cant think about that now. You have to think of all the good times ahead, my dad
reasoned.

I found a breeder in North Seattle, Himoon Labradors. My mom, very skeptical at first
since I found the breeder online, made a phone call the next day. Her fears were put to rest and
the breeder had a new litter of puppies that would be ready to go home just after Thanksgiving.
James, already living in Seattle, couldnt resist but to visit the breeder with a few of his
fraternity brothers. He sent pictures and with that, my mom decided that we should all go see the
puppies.
When the day finally came, my dad, mom and I picked James up at UW and headed
north. The trip felt like it took forever. We finally arrived at a small town house in Lake Forest
Park and were greeted by a massive male yellow lab, the father of the current litter of puppies.
Inside of the garage we found a boxed out area filled with 12 fur balls. My mom dubbed them
butter pigs. I had forgotten about the slightly burnt coffee smell of puppy breath and the
needle sharp fangs. It all came back when I held one of the tiny dogs. As we were getting ready
to leave, the dog in James arms fell asleep, almost as if to say, take me home with you. About
a month later Sage joined the family.

I sat next to my dad in the waiting room of the Virginia Mason in Issaquah after my eye
exam waiting for my grandpa who coincidentally also had an appointment that day. After
months of being in and out of the hospital, he was finally able to return home yet my grandma
had to shuttle him from appointment to appointment. When they emerged from the office, my
grandpa went through his greeting ritual, Dont gimme a fish. My dad stood off to the side to
answer a phone call. I quickly gathered that it was James on the other end. He had gone home

to Bainbridge for the weekend trying to get over the illness that began plaguing him soon after he
moved into his fraternity. From my dads reactions I could tell that he had gotten much worse.
Youre worried about your brother, arent you? my grandma asked me.
I nodded as sense of fear crept over me. James had never been severely ill. He had
chickenpox as a kid and the occasional cold. Now he could barely walk up a flight of stairs.

After several nerve-wracking weeks of James being in and out of the hospital for tests
and appointments, the doctors finally made a diagnosis. My dad sat down with me one day after
school to break the news.
The doctors finally figured out what is wrong with James, he said to me.
Yeah? What is it? I asked not knowing what to expect.
Guillain Barr Syndrome. James immune system has been attacking parts of his
nervous system. Thats why hes been so weak and having trouble walking. Were very
fortunate that the doctors caught this relatively early because if it had gone untreated, James
could have been paralyzed. In these cases, the patients lungs can stop working and they have to
be on a ventilator. But since we caught this earlier, James is expected to make a full recovery.
I texted James: Stay strong. Let me know if I can do anything.

It doesnt normally snow on Bainbridge. There were the occasional snowstorms but most
of the time snow found a way to skip over Bainbridge. I know there is probably a scientific
explanation for this but I never cared to find out. When I heard the forecast for that day, I

shrugged it off. Poulsbo and Bremerton, maybe even Seattle would get a few inches, but no
chance that Bainbridge would see any. Then I got to second period, then I saw flakes falling
from the sky through the window, then the powder started to accumulate on the ground. They
have to call off school, dont they? I thought to myself.
When fifth period rolled around, there was a good six inches of snow on the ground. Still
trapped in class, I felt my phone buzz. My dad texted me, Yo bud, Im gonna be getting off of
the ferry soon with James and Ill give you a ride to your car.
After the final bell I headed off to meet my dad. I saw the Suburban, James lifelessly
reclined in the front passenger seat wrapped in his puffy red North Face jacket. He had just
finished a round of infusions to treat the Guillain Barr. As I got into the car my dad quietly
said, Hey bud.
I didnt now what to do, should I acknowledge James? Sitting in the back seat, I silently
waited for my dads tutorial on driving in the snow. He touched on the basics: if you start sliding
when braking, let off the break and reapply, accelerate smoothly, try not to fight with the wheel
too much, etc. etc.
When we arrived at my snow-covered car, I quickly fired it up to start the defrosting
process.
Ill drive behind you so nobody will rear end you, my dad mentioned trying to calm
my nerves.
I rushed the thawing process, James needed to get home and I wouldnt be the one to hold
him up. As I backed out of the parking lot, I thought to myself, this isnt so bad. The tires were
a little bit crunchy but everything else felt the same. Then I pulled up to the stop sign. My

brakes locked. What do I do, what do I do? Oh yeah, let off and then step back on. I narrowly
avoided t-boning a school bus.
We finally made it home after sitting in traffic for an excruciating two hours. I love snow
but people on Bainbridge arent very good with driving in it. My dad helped James to his room.
He slept for about 15 hours.

James isnt the type of person to let something hold him back. On his middle school
wrestling team he won the Mr. Resilient award. Guillan Barr couldnt stop him. About six
months after the original diagnosis, he came back to Bainbridge for a weekend looking like the
same old James. He chased Sage and Remi around the front yard and threw a tennis ball for
them without any signs of being ill.
Later that day we both went to the athletic club to work out. I couldnt believe how much
weight James was lifting. It seemed all too recent that he could hardly walk yet hes squatting
300 pounds again. I was impressed.

I only applied to instate colleges. Actually, I also applied to the University of Oregon, a
complete safeguard, as I had absolutely no intention of being a Duck. The acceptance letters
started flowing in but the only one I really cared about was the big gold envelope. When it
finally came, I found out that I had also been accepted to the University of Washington Honors
Program. The next time I saw James, he greeted me with, Congrats on the honors program,
Dawg. Ive been bragging about you for the last week! You know its more selective than

Stanford? I stood there shocked and speechless. Maybe James wasnt such a bad guy after all.
I still have no idea if the thing about Stanford is true.
Although there were no dramatic river rescues or destroyed walls, Sage helped our
healing process. One cold winter day, long after the bare branches of the Asian pear tree had
provided the last fruit of the season, Sage dug up a pear, perfectly preserved by the frozen leaves.
My mom snapped a picture of her, the pear sitting between Sages legs with her head slightly
cocked to the side as if she were inquiring about the importance of her discovery.
Soon to be empty nesters, my parents decided to get a second puppy. When we brought
Remi home for the first time, Sage, now close to being fully grown, didnt know how to respond.
She pranced around the little ball of fur unaware that she would now be sharing the spotlight.

Where are you gonna live next year? James asked me as we watched Sage and Remi
chase after each other in our front yard.
I dont know, probably one of the dorms.
Have you thought about rushing at all?
No. Not sure I wanna live in a dump like your place. James rolled his eyes at me.
These two are ridiculous. Do they always play like this? Sage and Remi were now
rolling around wrestling like wild dogs.
Pretty much. They sleep a lot afterwards though.
You should at least come out to the frat again. Give it a chance. Its the best decision
Ive ever made.
Im glad I ended up giving that dump a chance.


Just after the Fourth of July I went back to my brothers fraternity for a small party. I had
been out a few times since my high school graduation and started to think that I wanted to pledge
to the house. A couple of hours into the party James pulled me aside and told me to go into his
room. Once I stepped inside the door I saw two of the recruitment chairmen and a couple of
James buddies.
Andrew, I think you probably know what this is for but wed like to offer you a bid to
join Betas, JP, one of the recruitment chairmen said enthusiastically. JP then told me that I
didnt have to make a decision right now if I didnt want to and asked me if I had any questions.
Yeah, only one. Where do I sign?
He grinned, handed me the bid card and a pen and said, Right there.
After I signed the card and the room cleared out, James pulled me aside.
Its gonna be fun. Now lets go grab a beer.

James pulled me into his room on his 21st birthday. He was getting ready to go out to a
bar for the first time.
You wanna take a shot? he asked me.
I stood staring at him silently trying to figure out if he was testing me. In order to help
freshman adjust to college life, our fraternity doesnt allow new members to drink hard alcohol
during the pledge period.

No, not gonna take it. I dont wanna be the guy that gets everyone in trouble, I said
determined to avoid any possible punishment.
You really think Id rat you out? Why would I do that? Take the shot.
Reluctantly I forced the rum down and refused the Coca Cola he offered me as chaser in
an attempt to impress him.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw the text from James: I just finished my
final, dont take off yet. In our fraternity there is a tradition that the freshman class drives to
California for spring break. I stood outside of my car, completely filled with suitcases, snacks
and four of my buddies. They sat impatiently, anxious to head south, while I waited for James.
He was about to take off for Europe for his study abroad program. Despite how much my
relationship with James had grown, we were still terrible with our hellos and goodbyes.
When he crossed 45th, we gave each other the classic head nod, I saw him and he saw me,
very little emotion involved. James grinned when he saw the back loaded car, the trunk sat much
lower than normal.
Man, I wish I were going on the road trip again, he said.
I shrugged, it couldnt be that fun could it?
Be smart and have fun. Dont do anything I wouldnt do.
Yeah, have a good time in Italy. We should FaceTime sometime or something and grab
a few American beers when you get back.
We shared a brief man hug and went on our separate ways.

During his study abroad program, James and I stayed in touch on Facebook exchanging
the occasional message.
Andrew: I have a big favor to ask of you
James: What is it?
A: I need to change one of my classes for next quarter but my registration was today. I
really would prefer not to get up at 5:45 again tomorrow morning and since you are 9 hours
ahead
J: What class is it?
A: I need to switch from Accounting 215 section A to section B.
J: Ill try. Our internet connection is spotty but I should be able to make that work.
The next morning I woke up with a message from James: You owe me one.

I finished my sophomore year the day before James Law Societies and Justice graduation
ceremony. We had been texting prior to the ceremony joking that we might both be a little bit
rundown from celebrating the end of the school year. On the day of the graduation, I met my
parents for lunch in Red Square while James gathered with his classmates. I did my best to look
put together and show no signs of the previous nights festivities.
Inside of Kane Hall, I found myself saving seats for James and my parents wishing that I
could be back in bed. When I saw him walk into the lecture hall I couldnt help but laugh. To
the untrained eye he looked like he belonged there, purple dress shirt, khakis and shiny brown
dress shoes. But to me I could tell that he had been to a few too many bars the night before.
When he got up to the seats he sensed my misery.

How you feeling dude? he asked grinning.

Not great.
In our shared hungover state we started cracking up trying to compose ourselves before
our parents returned.

To pay homage to his time studying abroad, my mom planned an Italian themed
graduation dinner for James. Both sets of grandparents (Grandpa Coatsworth, moving on from
his firm handshakes in order prevent the spread of germs, gave everyone a fist bump), cousins,
aunts and uncles piled into a separate section of Mama Melinas to celebrate James collegiate
accomplishments. After dessert, my mom stood up to give a toast.
It might be clich to say that things happen for a reason. James had designs on going far
away, escaping to the East Coast. Suffice to say that in the beginning, James wasnt particularly
excited to attend UW. Woo hoo, only a ferry ride away! After a bit of a rough start he was so
glad to be a Husky. We watched you on TV while you were at Husky basketball games. We
were reminded of you growing up with Madison as you helped raise Sage and Remi. We saw
you be a big brother to Andrew, become a leader in Betas and consistently earn Deans List
honors. We couldnt be more proud of James the trailblazer.
My dad followed.
We led James to the mountain. He did the climbing, a lot of climbing. Beyond the
countless academic and personal accomplishments, we watched James overcome an obstacle in a
way that very few people could. He didnt let Guillain Barr hold him back. He thrived when
most people would give up. With this determination, I have no doubt in my mind that he is

bound for great things whether that be in the field of law, politics or whatever else may present
itself. It has been a true honor watching him grow into the man that he is today.
My emotions caught me off guard as I realized how fortunate I am to be able to call
James my brother.