ArcaMax

Getting to Know John

The other day my husband asked me if my oldest brother had been around much while I was a child. It was a great question. My brother and I are several years apart in age. Eleven years, if I remember correctly.

I hesitated for a moment and answered. “I guess not” was my response.

When I thought about it he really wasn’t.

My brother would have left for college when I was about seven years old. He went off to school in Minnesota to begin with so he didn’t come home often. Even when he was at the University of Wisconsin I didn’t see much of him. He was still over 100 miles away.

After that, seeing him was hit and miss; or even less.

I can remember a couple of days when he was around with his young wife and his little baby Mollie (Maura). My dad and my brother got into a big argument at dinner and then he was gone. Just gone. That happens in families sometimes.

I was probably 11 when that argument took place.

I didn’t see my brother again until I was 18. He came to visit the family at my sister’s house and I was living with her for the summer at the time. I’ll never forget his reaction when he saw me. He exclaimed, “That can’t be my little sister!” Think about it. The guy leaves when I am 11. He returns to see a fully-grown 18-year-old young woman. It was a shock to his system.

Then he was gone again. I saw him just a few other times. During most of those times there was a lot of activity going on. They were occasions that might have resembled family reunions to most, so there was lots of talking coming from all directions. No real substantive conversations. I had fun with John on those occasions but I didn’t get to know him very well.

This recent visit was an opportunity when I think we both got to know each other a bit more. Unfortunately it came as a result of my brother losing his only son. My nephew died suddenly because of complications after surgery. Mathew (or Matt as he preferred) was 39 years old. Way too young to die and it’s always too early for a father to bury his only son. That’s not supposed to happen.

I jumped on the plane quickly when it became clear that my brother was going to be alone at a rough time. I dropped my schedule and decided the best thing I could do was just go and be with him. He lives in Portland, Oregon, and I live in Chicago, which sort of explains why we don’t see each other that often but truth be told, it’s only a four hour plane trip. I got there easily.

John and I spent most of our time sitting on his front porch talking. John did most of the talking. I tried to be a good listener. I learned a lot about John and I learned a lot about his son Matt.

John is a colorful story-teller and it was clearly evident how proud he was of his son. Matt had several obstacles to overcome in his life and instead of whining about them Matt did his best to live a happy and healthy life. John was proud to see what his son had accomplished when he had less than most kids to begin with. Matt didn’t see it that way. Matt decided he had plenty and he made the best of it. When others might be saying “poor Matt”, my brother John saw a kid he could be proud of.

Both guys golfed and bowled and they did a lot of it together. Matt was good at both. Matt scored the elusive hole in one. John never did (at least not yet). Matt scored a 299 in bowling. That’s pretty much impossible. No one in our family has ever done that, but Matt did. So many would be angry and disappointed that they left that one final pin on the lane and didn’t score 300. Instead Matt just saw it as a goal he could strive for. That one last pin. He believed he could pull off that 299 score and even go one pin further.

I know my brother is going to see some sad and lonely days ahead. He and Matt didn’t just golf and bowl together. They grocery stopped together. They watched TV together, played pool, saw movies and more. They just ‘hung out’ a lot. My brother John adjusted his life in early retirement so he could spend quality time with Matt. He knew how important it was to be a good dad to his only son. And he did just that. His son needed him and John stepped into the job with pride. John needed Matt too. That is clear to me now.

I got to know a lot about my brother John during my short visit to Oregon. I think we made up for some lost time and will do a better job of continuing to share our lives going forward. We’ve got a lot of time we need to make up for.

Pork Chops with Thyme and Mustard

Serves 2. Can easily be doubled
2 Tbl of fresh lemon juice
1/2 tsp of garlic powder
2 Tbl of Dijon mustard
2 tsp of dried thyme
2 Pork Loin chops (6 oz each)

In a small bowl mix the juice, mustard and the spices. Stir.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

In a cast iron pan, lightly spray surface with olive oil spray. Spray the top of your chops. Brush the sprayed side with the seasoning mixture. Put the chop in the pan, flavored side down. Sear on medium high for two minutes. Then brush the rest of the seasoning on the top side of the chop and turn it over. Transfer to your oven and roast until the chops are done to your liking. I check mine by using and instant read thermometer. When the chops reach 160 degrees they are fully cooked and no pink will remain but they will still be nice and juicy. This will take about 15 minutes depending on your oven and the chop size.

You can alternatively grill the chops to your liking too.

The chops in the picture were served with sautéed onions and a simple chopped tomato salad.

Enjoy!
Cheers,
Zola