I Wonder ...

At an early age, my brother Harry gave me some advice that would shape my life.

"That doesn't sound like you," he said. "You should write the way you talk."

I was maybe 10 years old and he was reading my homework. God knows why. I thought he was crazy.

More than a year before he died he said to himself, "I wonder if I have cancer." But he didn't do anything about it.

I'm remembering these two incident — unrelated, really, except that my brother shows up in both — because I'm trying to figure out why we listen to some people and not others. To others and not ourselves.

In my case, I didn't really believe my brother because, well, he was my brother. What did he know about writing? Anyway, I didn't really care because, at the time, I wasn't planning to become a writer.

In my brother's case, maybe he didn't trust what his body was telling him or maybe he was afraid of the truth.

I wish I could tell him he was right in my case.

I wish I could tell him he was wrong about the cancer.