09 November 2007
Sometimes, Bram did things…

sometimes

I can’t stop waiting for Bram to come home. I walk
into a room and he’s not there, and I think to myself,
“I wonder what’s keeping him? He should be home by
now.” When I walk out of my office at the end of the
day, I think, “Finally! I get to go home and be with
Bram!” And then I remember, and my heart feels like
it’s going to burst and fall out of my chest. I can’t
make myself believe it’s real. I look for him
everywhere I go. He was my world.

Bram did interesting things. It was an adventure living
with him. Everyday was a new experience. Everyday he
made us smile.

Bram wore a sheet as a skirt one day. I remember
sitting on the couches outside the black box theatre
at MSU, waiting for Bram to get to school. I heard
him before I saw him. He wasn’t a heavy walker, but
he had a slow, measured step, that even though I’m
going deaf, I could always identify. I stepped into
the hall to meet him and he was dressed in a sheet.
He had on a big T-shirt, and his ever-present flannel,
his boots of Armageddon, a hat on his head…and a black
sheet wrapped and pinned around his waist. I said,
“Bram, you’re wearing a sheet.” He said, in a ‘duh’
tone of voice, “I know.” I asked why and he said, “I
didn’t have any clean pants.” I made sure he had
something on under the sheet, and dropped the subject.
He wore the sheet all day. It seems like everyone in
Minot saw him that day. He went to rehearsal, he went
to his mother’s, he went to his church…it seems everyone
who knew him then has a story about that day. He never
did it again, but not because he was embarrassed.
I think he got tired of confirming that he was, indeed,
wearing a sheet.

Bram had a magic trick. Because of his diabetes, his
weight fluctuated quite a bit. I don’t think his pants
ever fit perfectly. When he had the pancreatic cyst
and was basically starving to death, he lost a hell of
a lot of weight very quickly. His waist went from like
48” to I think 32”. He wouldn’t buy new pants. He just
kept putting new holes in his belt and cinching those
pants up. You can’t imagine the bagging that was
happening—his crotch hung to his knees! Anyway, his
pants never fit right, the magic trick… He would walk
up to people and ask, “Do you wanna see a magic trick?”
Whether you said yes or no, he would make some kind of
magic motion or chant and then suck in his belly.
His pants slithered down to the floor. Ta-da!

Bram was a pirate. Sometime in the past year, Bram
decided he wanted to be a pirate. He started collecting
pirate flags and patches and other paraphernalia. He
bought pirate ship models to put together. We discussed
decorating our living room as a cabin on a pirate ship.
He read pirate books. We went to see the last “Pirates
of the Caribbean” movie five times in the theatre. He
was counting down the days until it came out on DVD.
Then he decided he needed a pirate outfit. He insisted
that I not call it a costume—it was clothing. So this
past summer, I made him a pirate outfit. I found a place
online that sells custom made pirate hats and we ordered
one. We ordered boots, too. It took me a week to make
the outfit, and he was beautiful in it. I wish I knew
how to post a picture—anyone help here? I sewed the
outfit, but Bram designed it: shirt, waistcoat,
frock coat, sash, bandana, rings, and pirate boots.
He chose all the fabric and trim. When it was done,
he wore it to work. In the middle of August. In Reno, nv.
He wore it to the grocery store, the gas station, the bank,
walked around downtown in it, and came and visited my
students in my costume shop. He looked great. He wore
the outfit again on “talk like a pirate day.” He intended
to wear it for Halloween and his birthday. Maybe for
New Years, too. He was never embarrassed. He was just fun.
He loved to live.

I wish I had the words to express what a huge personality
Bram was. His passing a left a vast hole in my life,
and I don’t believe it can ever be filled. I know
life is not fair, or just, but I don’t know how or why
to live in a world without Bram. He was my Big Baby,
the other half of my soul.

thought by Bram Davidson around 9:03 PM
3 things said by the gallery