We recently lost Melissas brother Steve Trussell, who passed much too young at 62. Thanks so much to each one who has sent condolences. She wrote the following as a memorial: My dear “Ole Bro” (as he called himself) is gone. Death has broken in uninvited and cold, its ugly tentacles cruelly cutting off the breath of one I loved. I heave and sob. I feel the unforgiving sting of not making that phone call when his face kept coming to my mind. Too busy. I would certainly call him tomorrow. Or the next day. He’ll be there. He was such a unique person. An early a.m. caller might hear, “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya.” A later p.m. caller would not get an answer at all. He never complained about surroundings or circumstances…”We’re doing fine”, was his frequent response. Was always cooking up some crazy concoction of food, most likely including his favorite “bonzo” beans or whatever was handy. The Christmases with Steve in Waverly, NY were some of our family’s favorites. He loved to give. He had the sense not to waste money on wrapping paper. He would just reach from a pile behind his chair and start handing out the most interesting stuff you’d ever seen. And our simple gifts for him seemed like a million dollars to him. I loved cooking for him. He just enjoyed everything to the fullest, especially the year we had roasted ducks. I think he consumed one whole duck himself. He was a load of fun to be with. Years before, our grandfather McCulley had begun a tradition of hiding a little rubbery tongue-protruding goblin-like man in whoever’s home he was visiting. The “little man” got passed from one relative to the next and showed up in the most hilarious places. I’ll never forget Steve’s uproarious eruption of laughter when upon opening a can of coffee one morning, I found protruding from the grounds the skinny little arm of the “little old man”. My dear Ole Bro gave me my first accordion. He told me he was looking out his window one day and observed someone dragging this beautiful instrument along and then toss it into a dumpster. It seemed to literally hurt him to think of that accordion in the trash and he told me as soon as they left he went right out and retrieved it. What a special treasure! I played it for years for children’s services and in church. Old and young loved it. What a kind heart. So appreciative of even the smallest acts of kindness. He loved to get cards. From people. My dear ole Bro. My heart aches that you breathed your last alone. Or did you? We sisters and brothers would have wanted to be with you if at all possible. To comfort and hold your hand through the valley. To tell you once more how much we loved you. My only consolation…is that Someone was there. One who never breaks in uninvited, but patiently knocks and waits…and gently enters when He hears “come in”. One who “knows how we are formed and remembers that we are dust.” Precious memories will continue to live on in my heart. But how I will miss hearing at the end of a phone conversation, “Love ya, lil sis.” ~Melissa
Posted on: Tue, 22 Oct 2013 18:11:38 +0000
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