Brotherly Love

Ron Nagasawa
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Wednesday - August 05, 2009
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I’m the oldest in my family, but not by much. My sister is one year younger than I am, and my brother is one year younger than she is. My little brother and I are nothing alike. I look like our dad while my brother looks more like our mom.

When it comes to personalities, he’s a lot more responsible than I am. You wouldn’t think so given my profession, but outside of work, I’m a disaster. My brother, on the other hand, is a totally reliable and responsible adult. He’s in the Air National Guard full time, which might explain that. It’s good to know that security of our Islands is in the hands of that Nagasawa and not this one. I kind of admire him because he has his life pretty much together. He’s single, and he bought a house about four houses away from us.


 

He’s done well financially and is probably looking at retirement while he’s still pretty young. I can’t believe this is the same guy I roomed with while growing up. Oh, well, at least I can still beat him up if we ever got into a fight.

Recently, he got orders for a stint in Singapore to train some guys over there. He was gone for about six weeks, during which time he asked me to take care of some things for him. Knowing me, he kept the tasks to a minimum. He asked his neighbors to pick up his newspaper and told my kids to check his mail every day. He wanted me to take care of some “important” things.

I wasn’t paying too much attention, but he did want me to make sure that I mailed out his bill payments on time. Holy smokes, was he ever asking the wrong guy for that! I’m a notorious procrastinator and can’t pay my own bills in time, let alone his too. Still, I didn’t want to let him down.

I devised a notification system for myself that could not fail. I posted all his bills on our refrigerator door or on the wall right outside our bathroom. Those were two places I would not fail to pass on a daily basis. I was going to use the TV, but the mail tended to block the picture.

Well, for five of the six weeks, it was mission accomplished. Just before he was to return, he called to check on how things were going. When he asked if I remembered to mail out his bills on time, I got a bit indignant saying, “What do you think I am? Five years old?” Then he asked if I fed his fish.

I replied, “What fish?”

Ron’s WEBSITE of the weekwww.kaimuki.com

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