It has been nearly 6 months since my last post, which is way too long and I feel that today is an appropriate day to get back into it. While I am not good at writing / blogging I know that it can be a form of expression and therapy, a way to organize thoughts, a way to tell stories, and a way to remember. One story in particular I have always hesitated to talk about and to share but am today is that of my brother, Christopher Richard Becker.
My brother and I grew up in an ideal world. Two loving parents, a dog, lots of friends and living small town in Indiana where a kid with a bicycle had as much freedom as a 16 yr. old who has just gotten his driver’s license. Like any brothers growing up 2 years apart, we caused havoc for our parents by fighting constantly through most of our childhood, but still found the ability to enjoy the times together whether it was flying with our Dad in his plane, or going to the local pond to go swimming all afternoon.
As we grew older, Christopher and I grew closer as friends. By high school we would frequently get groups of mutual friends together for different adventures such as late-night goose hunting, Frisbee golf or mountain biking. Once he left for college (Letourneau University in Longview Texas) we found time to connect through letters, phone calls and holiday visits. Every time he would come back home, we would get together and share stories of the crazy things we were doing in our lives. He was the one who taught me that older heavy machinery could be turned on with pretty much any key you have laying around (this still works). He told me stories of how him and his college friends would go to a close-by junk yard start up the bulldozers and backhoes and toss around cars in the middle of the night. On a visit to Texas for a cold fall break, he took me with his group of friends to go water skiing and bare footing on a lake that was warmed by a nuclear plant which kept the water at a steamy 80+ degrees …thinking back, that may have not been the wisest decision.
He was definitely the more athletic member of the family and would consistently encourage me to go running or work out with him. Everything was always a competition; who could run faster, who jump further, who could lift more. Rarely did I win these ‘feats of strength’, but I know it was the drive to be better that was important while he was around. He was also who instilled in me the belief of being adventuresome; trying new things, taking risks and not wasting any time doing it. Even after my motorcycle accident where I was in a wheelchair and didn’t feel much like doing anything he would drag me out to go have coffee and chat late into the night. These are the memories I cherish most about Christopher.
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| Left to Right (Brad Yordy, Preston Cosgrove, Adam Becker, Robert Cosgrove, Christopher Becker) |
It was in August 2001 just after Christopher and his good friend Chad had graduated college when they decided to take an adventure of a life-time, to get a one-way ticket to Europe and travel wherever they wanted. In true fashion, while driving from Indiana to New York where their flight departed, my brother somehow managed to lose his passport in Ohio. I remember spending half of an afternoon trying to figure out how he could get a new expedited passport and new flights to London while he drove back. By the time he got back, we had everything ready to go; he would need to immediately drive to Chicago, in order to get his passport and had a flight leaving the next day. I was there when he left, gave him a hug, told him goodbye, and to have fun…little did I know that would be the last time I would see my brother.
A couple days later I had traveled to Texas, where I was spending the last weeks of my summer with a friend before starting my junior year of college. While I was there, fatefully my mom had called to warn me to be safe on the 14th of August, since it was the one year anniversary of my motorcycle accident. Then in the middle of the night that evening, my parents called again to let me know that Christopher had passed away.
Chad and Christopher had flown from the US to London, London to Belgium where they rented a car and drove to Germany, the Czech Republic and Austria. They had epic adventures: Snuck into an opera house for a performance, they had seen massive Castles, visited famous buildings in ancient cities, met local people in tiny German towns, swam in the Danube River and picked up hitch hikers that knew no English. Finally they were in the Swiss Alps where they were free climbing up the face of a mountain when Christopher fell. Along the way, they filmed their journey that was meant to be for them to remember their trek across the globe, but now serves as a perfect way for me to remember my brother.
Even though there is rarely a day that passes without me thinking about my older brother, I take time every year on the 14th of August to sit down and remember him. I look at the pictures of us together, watch the last video he made and laugh and the ridiculous things he and Chad did. What once was difficult to do, is now an enjoyable time that often gives me strength. Even though he will never age another day past what I remember, he will always be my bigger brother and I use the thoughts of him and how he once pushed me to be a better person today…every time I run I take time to think of how proud he would be of me now that I could probably run further and faster than he ever did…undoubtedly he would try to beat me, but at least I can put up a fight. I have never lost my sense to be adventuresome, and if anything my urge to try new things has grown since Christopher’s death. We never know when our time is up on this earth and I for one will push myself to live it to the fullest.
If anyone reading this knew Christopher and would like to share a story, please do so in the comments on the bottom or even better, post pictures to my facebook page here. I would love to hear from you!
~Adam
