Goin’ Up Yonder

Several years ago my husband observed that—for an only child—I still always have a brother. That guy I can trash talk with/at, who lends me tools or music, and who probably feeds me pancakes. Last week two different old friends called me “sis” in their texts. Neither of them called me that before, but the appellation was love received.

It defines me, being sister to these men.

The brother I lost this week was love. A word cloud of tributes to him would rain largest: joy, laughter, light, talent. Over twenty-some years he became a light people followed. Literally. Folks followed his band. And probably the band he formed after that one.

I heard him before I first saw him. Steadily picking a mandolin on his front porch. I yelled a sweaty moving-day-something across the street about Hatfields and McCoys. His door was open from that day on.

These open door people, these beams of light.

We’d lost touch a little before I became a parent. I imagined bringing my own kiddo to one of his shows to reconnect. I imagined sharing another good meal. I saw the gleeful hugs, the how’s-your-moms, the HOW-many-kids, the homecoming dance. I also imagined learning of his death in a headline. Only one of those things happened.

I turn 42 today, and I’m mad he can’t chat with me, call me by my full name. Not that he had my number. But if he had called (there is magic, after all), it would be the familiar, electric joy we had for more than half my life. Or maybe it would have been sad, but that would have been okay, too.

It will take me a while to listen to any of his music. I’ll probably have to avoid bluegrass altogether, for a spell. I have listened to a gospel song a few too many times — Goin Up Yonder.

If anybody ask you

Where I’m going

Where I’m going soon

I’m goin’ up yonder

I’m goin’ up yonder

I’m goin up yonder

To Be with my Lord

I don’t think he was into God in this way, but he sure did bring us all closer to the Devine while we were all down here, together.

Thanks for the love, brother. May you be able to feel that love now.

About alanajoyski

Project manager, problem solver, chips fan.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Goin’ Up Yonder

  1. Kitty says:

    Alana, I’m so sorry for your loss.
    Hope his music continues to bring light.
    ❤️

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s