Usually, that means that I'm the favorite nephew, the favorite Elliott sibling o the French teacher we all shared, the one who never had a curfew, etc.
However, I'm also the only boy. So, being the baby brother to two older sisters means that I never had that expectation that each of them had when my mother told them that they would have a younger brother or sister. My mother never came to all three of us with that 'big news'. So, my sisters were able to wonder if the new arrival would be a boy or girl, if it would look like them, etc.
Of course, I don't look like them: even though I'm only 5'11"m which is taller than the average white American man, I tower over my sisters, who range between 5'1" and 5'4". I have green eyes, and dark hair that was curly and auburn when I was young. Nothing like their blue eyes and blond hair!
So, I had always wanted a brother; I would have gladly turned in one o my older sisters for an older brother, but that wasn't possible. I never had a snowball's chance in hell for a younger brother, so I latched on to friends and treated them as brothers. Some of those friends I still count as friends, I moved on from some of them a decade ago, some of them
I contact only rarely.
And then, there are the other brothers: my religious brothers. These are the men with whom I lived, with whom I promised m poverty, my chastity, and my obedience. Next to whom I ran and id push-ups in the snow during PE. These are the men with whom I processed during the Stations around the seminary, fearing we'd pass out dressed in black wool cassocks as the scalding New England July sun seared us along our shuffle on the asphalt.
I left the seminary after a year and a half, and came back home and continued formation toward the Roman priesthood. But those brothers were what I most missed from the novitiate: I had experienced male comraderie and friendship as I had always wanted to.
Many of my brothers stayed, of course. And I was unable to say goodbye to any of them. They woke up, and I simply wasn't there. I know what that was like: a few brothers had left and we discovered it a day or so later, and never spoke of his absence.
Of course, I wasn't going without a fight. When the class with whom I entered the candidacy took their vows at the end of their novitiate, I traveled back to Connecticut to watch them do that thing which we had always assured each other would fulfill us as Christians and as persons. I hope it was so for them.
But some of my brothers did leave. I'm still in contact with a few of them, and regularly check a website for members who have left, to see if any of them are now on the outside.
I sent an e-mail to a group of friends and family when began this blog, and one of the respondents was my favorite brother (I'm sure he'll blush when he reads that!). My affection for him was always fraternal, though it probably worries him that a gay man has affection for him and calls him a favorite. But we both know it's mutual.
I remember when I chided him for never drinking beer, and so he chugged a few just to prove me wrong. I'm sure he was irritated. I'm sure I irritated him frequently.
I wasn't exactly too comfortable at the seminary, since I was an arch-liberal among so many seemingly fascist Catholics. At times, I felt like I was in a Spanish seminary during Franco's regime.
So, this brother made me feel more comfortable by simply being a friend to an immature
re freaked out 18-year old kid who loved Christ, but didn't frequently have the patience to deal with Christians.
And so, this one's for you, Br Timothy of the Precious Infant Blood:
POPE NAMES
The good:
Pius, I-XII
Innocent, I-XIII
Benedict, I-XVI
Clement, I-XIII
It's obvious why those are 'good' pope names
The bad:
Lando
Sisinnius
Simplicius
Soter
Not good names for popes...Lando betrayed Han Solo, Sisinnius sounds like a coward, Simplicius sounds like an idiot, and who would want to be named Soter?
The Ugly
Sixtus I-III
Hilarius
Sylvester I-III
Sixtus I-III??? Strange name to have for the first five, and they never even got to the sixth one. Hilarius is hilarious, and Sylvester makes me think of a cartoon cat with a lisp.
And for Br Tim? I always imagined he'd become supreme pontiff. I would guess that upon succeeding to the Throne of St Peter, he'd assume the name of Pope Judas. His message to the world would be to assure that Christ was sent even to redeem names.
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