It is one of my earliest memories. Standing by the front door greeting my mother and newborn younger brother. I was three and a half. I knew that my brother would change everything. And he did…. followed by our sister seven years later.
Michael died on Monday after a long battle with COPD.
Michael followed his dream and moved to Israel in the mid-seventies, eventually settling on the kibbutz where he had been a volunteer years earlier.
People may ask “if he wasn’t your brother, would he have been your friend?”
Thankfully, it is a hypothetical question. He was my brother. I loved him. We would have agreed to disagree on many things. He would have taken great pleasure talking politics from his pedestal as a confirmed ex-pat. He would have shared the joys of his family — especially his grandchildren who were always visiting.
Of this I am certain: he would have been a good friend and he will be missed.