I used to have two brothers: Eric and Scott. Protectors, they were. Eric is 5 years older than me and Scott, 2 years older. Both were popular, good-looking and got the lion's share of talent, athletic and other-wise. I just got to be born, basically, and was destined to be known as "Eric's Sister" or "Scott's Sister," a label I scoffed at publicly, but cherished secretly. My brothers were my identity, for good or for worse.
So what becomes of a girl who loses her identity. What happens when a girl goes from "Scott's Sister" to "Scott's Survivor?" Well, let me begin to tell you. Three and a half years ago I ceased to have the title of "Scott's Sister" because Scott passed away, unexpectedly, of a drug overdose. We do not believe it was a suicide, but, as a quote from a popular 70s movie said, there are lots of ways of killing yourself without killing yourself. Scott knew only too well the truth behind that statement.
I have never written about Scott's death until now. I have contemplated it, dozens of times, but each time, fear would grip me, tight, like a noose around my neck, loosening only when I surrendered to defeat, cowering somewhere in a corner like a frightened child. Each time I tried, the noose would tighten again, as if to say "you don't want to write about this; nothing good could possibly come of it." The truth is, I could probably start writing about Scott and never stop. I have thought about penning a book about him. I could probably fill 200 pages. But for now it will suffice to get some thoughts down; baby steps are good and cathartic and the best way to take bigger ones. And fear will no longer prevent me from writing what needs to be written.
My relationship with my brother, the middle child, was complicated indeed. In the end, there was no relationship which I will also write about (but not now). Right now I want to write about the good Scott or, as I will call him, the Great Scott.
Scott was great, in many ways and in many things. That will be his legacy; the way he lived life, not the way he died. Oh, how it sounds so cliché, but he really packed a great deal of living into his 49 years! Growing up, I was in awe of him. His athletic talent was simply off the charts. Scott was a quarterback, Scott was a pitcher. He also played basketball and wrestled, but he excelled at the two former sports and, of course, was a natural leader in both. If you put a pencil in Scott's hand, the results were not so great, but a ball? An entirely different story!
Scott was born to be a pitcher. He was fearless on the baseball diamond and on the bases. I remember watching countless games where he was the star. There were times when he would taunt the opposing team's pitcher while on base, daring him to throw him out. He would clap until the pitcher would get riled up, with his come get me out smile. While the pitcher might try, rarely, if ever, was Scott thrown out. Many times he ended up stealing the base instead! He was fearless and sheer poetry in motion. It didn't hurt that he could throw strikes like some people throw out the trash: effortlessly.
Scott had the same ability as a quarterback. He could throw a ball into tomorrow and never think twice. He was quick on his feet and had a mind for sports. God indeed did some of his best work when He created my brother.
Not only did Scott excel in sports, he excelled in music. He learned to play the guitar at a young age. If I am not mistaken, I believe he taught himself to play by ear. He was also a professional dancer during the disco craze, forming a disco dance group that had girls at our high school swooning...and disco clubs across Colorado doling out trophies and prizes to the amazing Silver Steps.
Perhaps Scott's greatest gift was his heart. He was exceptionally giving, almost to a fault. Scott's reckless giving spirit resulted in many girlfriends gaining expensive gifts of jewelry and flowers which resulted in Scott's debt issues spiraling out of control. Money problems would be a lifelong issue for Scott as he never really understood that financial stability comes from hard work, saving money and not relying on get rich quick schemes. Money would indeed be his demise.
On top of everything else, Scott was gorgeous and wildly popular. I can say that because it's true...and almost everyone I knew was crazy about him and went on and on about his looks and how wonderful he was. While this sometimes became tiring, it worked to my advantage, as stated previously, as people sometimes just wanted to know Scott via his sister! The only downfall to being his sister? He absolutely forbid me from dating any of his drop-dead gorgeous friends!
There was seemingly nothing my brother could not do. Seemingly. As I said, I do not want to use this post to speak of the negatives, of which there were many in the end. This post will extol the many virtues of Scott, a boy that was gifted greatly by God, that was adored by many, that had an amazing capacity to give and to love. He was, truly, the Great Scott.
The Great Scott
