Painting rainbows in heaven

 Losing my brother Carlton in 2020 was by far the most devastating and painful thing that happened to me. Within a matter of weeks of becoming ill, my older brother was gone. Of all 5 brothers, I was closest to Carlton. Those who grew up with me and attended high school with me know the full story. While I am not ready to openly talk about that incident, Carlton's death opened a lot of painful wounds about that dreadful day in August of 1987. Luckily, reopened wounds do close again.

Carlton was an amazing artist with a troubled past. His artwork became his ministry and he would not only do commissioned pieces for businesses, celebrities, politicians and dignitaries but would donate portraits to people who could not afford to pay to bring them joy. I have no doubt that his talent was God given because he truly had remarkable talent. 

Despite his personal setbacks and challenges and our long periods of no communication, he still managed to be my biggest cheerleader. Our family has never been close knit but I could always count on his support. In fact, one of his last acts was making sure that my covid birthday brunch was special by drawing personal portraits of my guests. If you asked and he had it (sometimes even if he didn't), it was yours.

Growing up with a gay brother wasn't easy in the 80s. I don't know if it is any easier in 2021. I remember the first time it was apparent to me that my brother liked boys. I looked out the window and saw something that left me in complete shock! I told my dad about it and he was highly upset. It would set a precedence for a turbulent stepfather-stepson dynamic moving forward that would end tragically.

Over time, I learned to accept Carlton's lifestyle even if I didn't understand it as a child because he was my brother and I loved him. Once I shed the stigma of having a gay brother, I was able to properly process it and accept it. His choice of partners did not change anything about him-he was still handsome, protective, funny, kind, intelligent and talented. In fact, if you lined our choice of mates up, I am quite certain my line up is more sketchy! 

Carlton involuntarily taught me tolerance and acceptance at an early age and despite the judgment and backlash he often faced, he was always true to himself. He lived his truth; often a painful one. Not only was he rejected by my father, his own biological father rejected his being gay.

Carlton taught me resilience. Time and time again, he emerged successfully from any setback. Throughout the ups and downs of life, we can lift ourselves up and forge ahead with confidence and grace. We never have to look like what we have gone through. We never have to feel "less than" because our lives have been imperfect. Shame is a cloak that we never have to put on daily. 

Carlton taught me forgiveness which is the hardest lesson to learn. To look deep within yourself and forgive someone for acts that had deadly consequences is the hardest thing you will ever do. But in the end, I forgave. I truly believe that forgiveness opens the door to healing for all. And healing is what makes you whole again.

So in the end, my most "flawed" brother was my biggest ally. I learned to measure his deeds over his flaws.

I'll be looking for rainbows in the sky. They will serve as my reminder of the artist in heaven who lived his life in full color despite a bleak outlook.