Connor Stephen Lewis, 12/10/96 - 9/8/14
After
just a few hours of sleep the other night I finally gave up on the
tossing and turning and decided to use the last quiet hours of the early
morning to write about my darling little brother, Connor.
2
hours later I had a pile of soggy tissues but hadn’t gotten one word
down. I gave up. Because how can I possibly put into words what this
brilliant young man means to me. There’s no poem, no one amazing story
that captures him. I have 17 years of laughs and tears and bite marks.
Oh yes, Connor was our family vampire. Really glad we broke him of that.
But nothing I could say here is enough to honor all that he was. But a
sister has to try, right?
As
a baby Connor had the whitest hair you’ve ever seen and it was so thin
it stuck straight out. We called him our little Einstein. Who knew then
how well he’d live up to that name.
Connor
questioned everything and would not act until he was satisfied the
answer was right for him. For example, when he was getting ready for his
first Confession he fought it. He asked, “Why do I need to go talk to
Father John when I can just talk straight to God?”
He loved monopoly and could beat me in less than an hour.
He
hoarded fuzzy blankets. No really, if your blanket is missing it’s in
Connor’s room. But he always found me one when I was home.
The
famous Connor meltdown over being forced to eat seafood, will never
die. And yet when we were planning his trip to visit me in Baltimore
next summer he promised he’d at least give crabs one try.
He
wanted to be a good man. Unlike maany teenagers, he would ask for advice
about how to treat women, even when he already knew the answer. And he
often thanked me for showing him what a strong woman deserved from a
partner.
What
I had to save for last was Connor’s love of the outdoors. It wasn’t
always obvious, but I think his Philmont trips really helped the world
to see the Connor I knew was in there. If you don’t know me, I spend
very little time indoors. I kayak rivers, scale rocks, and summit
mountains. Connor wanted to do it all. Tomorrow we were supposed to be
paddling down the Meramec. Next summer we were supposed to hike at
Yellowstone. He wanted the challenge of leading a hike in a forest I
always get turned around in. Now there is no mountaintop where I will
not hear his voice in the wind. And no open night sky where I won’t see
his signature smirk in the star twinkle.
Because, as the quote goes:
If he burns brightly before he dies,
his brightness shines for all time
