Stamps for Art

 Los Angeles, California

My friend, Art, phoned to tell me that his brother had passed away. Just two days before, my friend and pilates partner had emailed about the loss of her brother. It was a bad week for brothers. I sent a note, enclosed in a card, to both. I never had a brother. I have often wished I would have, as it would have changed a family dynamic that leaned heavily and dangerously into a sister/mother triad. Throwing a brother into the mix would have shaken things up, and likely in a good way. For me, the younger sister of an older sibling, undiagnosed but evidently on the spectrum, a healthy male sibling might have upset a toxic family applecart in a revolutionary manner. Or maybe not.

But, perhaps for that reason, I have a reverence for brothers. As a teen, my girlfriends and I thought that older brothers would bring home their friends. We fantasized about where that could lead. Of course these imaginary brothers were never nerds. They were the coolest of the cool. The brothers we deserved.

We never thought ahead to what it would feel like to lose a brother. In both these recent cases, my friends lost older brothers. I felt sympathy for their loss, as well as a faint reminder of my envy for their experience of having a brother. They were lucky to have brothers. They were unlucky to have lost them.

So I prepared cards and notes. My mother and aunt had instructed me that condolence should be conveyed with a note, not a card. But, times change. I don't know if people are sending condolence texts, but I wouldn't be surprised. I, however, sent cards with notes enclosed. I carefully addressed the envelopes adding return address labels. And stamps. One was easy. It was a pretty stamp with the word Peace. Choosing Art's stamp was more difficult. Art is a successful graphic artist. When we began our business, he did our corporate identity: business cards; stationery; advertisements. And Art and I collaborated on projects like the brochure for the product Tom had created, as well as Christmas cards and party invitations. I wrote the words; Art did the art. So, I carefully perused all the Forever stamps I had collected over time, trying to choose one that would be appropriate for him in art and meaning. But Art's brother had died in a violent manner. Obviously the John Lennon stamps weren't appropriate. I kept looking. Selena? No. Isadora Duncan? OMG. Sylvia Plath? Why did I have so many stamps honoring people who had died in pretty horrific ways? I had some Peanuts stamps, but they were clearly not appropriate. I finally decided on an O. Henry stamp. I have no idea how O. Henry died and I am not about to google. The color of the stamp matched the ink of the address. Done.

Losing a brother is inordinately sad. Losing anyone we care about is so freaking hard. But a part of me, knowing Art, thought that he would find my search for the right stamp rather darkly funny. The older we get, the more we are able to find some humor in the darkest of our days. In fact, it is what often keeps us afloat when all else has failed. So, as I attached the O. Henry stamp, I thought to myself: O.(M.G.) Henry. Because loss is ahead of us all. I'm prepared. I have a lot of cards. And a lot of words to convey my sympathy. So, who would have thought the stamps would be the conundrum?