This is For Him

I did some grieving work around my brother's passing in my MKP iGroup last week.

I remembered that I wrote this piece for him after he passed last Oct 16th, 2006.

So this is for him.

I'm out.
Old-faithful Wolf


For my brother, Scott

It saddens me deeply to not be at the service today; to read these words in person; to see him spread to the ocean where he told me he loved to play.

I knew Scott most as a boy. I knew the pure Scott. I think I was closest to the pure Scott than any other person. My brother was my best buddy growing up. We were pretty much inseparable until Scott went off the junior high and I was in 6th grade, in a different school. We moved often as kids and we often had only each other to play with. No matter; we found plenty to do.

I knew the Scott who loved to:
  • skateboard and BMX
  • play baseball, football, hockey and ice skate
  • build forts in the woods
  • sit with me for hours and play with our toys
  • throw snowballs and build snowmen
  • fish for bluegills and small mouth bass with my grandpa Jess
  • eat huge thanksgiving dinners with both our grandparents
  • play with our hot wheels cars and pretend we are both race car drivers
  • backpack and hike with me
  • play in the Kelley’s barn

I knew the Scott that:
  • feared heights and told almost no one
  • hated his glasses and told anyone who would listen
  • was afraid to tell my parents he was afraid
  • fought with me over the things brothers fight over
  • called me Randy Pandy with great joy in his voice, even though he knew it hurt my feelings and let me call him Scotty Potty, because I was littler than him
  • I had to bite, and hard, to get him off me
I miss that pure Scott that I knew as a boy. I miss him so much.

And now as I live in this life, without him, I remember him. Our relationship was what it was. I feel deep sadness, yet, there is nothing to be done but accept the way it was.

In my spiritual beliefs, Scott has already returned to this time and space as another person; maybe this time a little girl in Iowa or a little boy New Zealand, or perhaps he is right here. Look around, he may be near. He has moved on to another journey filled with lessons to learn.

To honor him in my spiritual beliefs, I ask you face west, to lift your voices and three times speak his name as I knew him; toward the setting sun, to the oncoming night, to the magician, to the hibernating Bear that seeks within the darkness the gift of renewal:

Scott Allan Maynard
Scott Allan Maynard
Scott Allan Maynard


I wish my brother love and peace in his next journey.


  1. My condolences on the death of your brother. My own brother died by suicide over ten years ago and I am firmly convinced that the grieving is never over. It does get quieter, though, and easier to accept.

    What is remembered lives. - R

  2. Scott Allan Maynard
    Scott Allan Maynard
    Scott Allan Maynard

    Blessings my bro.