
This is a short story with few characters. It began ten or so years ago, but it did not end until February of this year, Anno Domini 2023. It is but a brief waypoint in the relationship I had with my brother before he died on July 6 of 2022. Before we begin my story, let me introduce the “cast” of characters.
William Paul Persico: Younger brother to John Persico Jr. Born on March 31, 1958. Billy as everyone called him was almost twelve years younger than John. Billy and John grew up in the same house, but their paths hardly crossed. They shared little in common. Billy dropped out of school in the 9th grade after staying back two years. Billy’s main values: Drinking, smoking, drugs, and partying with his friends. Later in life, Billy started to pay more attention to his son Jacob. They shared some very special times together before Billy passed.
John Persico Jr. Brother to Billy. Born on September 17, 1946. Joined the military in September of 1964 at the age of 18. Hardly had any contact with Billy for many years. Not much in common. John’s main values: Education, hard work, and honesty. Others might disagree with this rather positive outlook but hell, I am the one telling this story.

ABOVE PICTURE – JEANINE ON THE LEFT AND KAREN ON THE RIGHT. HIKING IN FEBUARY
Jeanine Persico: Billy’s older sister and John’s younger sister. Born on August 30, 1951. Spent thirty-five years working for Social Security. Received early retirement. After her mom and older sister Sheri died, she seemed to adopt Billy as a basket case that she needed to take care of. Continually enabling him (In my mind at least) by giving him money and never expecting him to pay it back. Jeanine’s main values: Family, friendship, loyalty, compassion, and avoidance of conflict. Jeanine is much like our mother. A loving kind person who takes care of people.
Karen Y. Persico. Wife of John Persico. Born July 5th, 1944. Karen had to listen for many years to my complaints about my brother’s perceived lack of positive attributes. She was always kind to Billy when he called and once visited but shared my disapproval for his profligate lifestyle. She never questioned or complained of any money we loaned to Billy. Karen’s values: Family, frugality, hard work, education, and music. She shows her love for others through her cooking, crafts, and music.
Linda Therrien: Billy’s common law wife and companion for twenty or so years. Born October 13, 1946. Billy lived with Linda in a mostly loving relationship. Two lonely outcast souls that seemed to find each other and as Judge Judy once said, “There is a cover for every pot.” Linda’s values: Unknown. It will not really matter since Linda plays a very small role in this story. Linda is a walk-on and walk right off in this story.
The story that follows has some roots in what happened after my mother Dorothy died. She passed away on Feb 2, 1994, at the age of 67. After Billy’s divorce, he had continued to live with our mom. My sister Sheri who died on December 22, 2002, along with my sister Jeanine and I agreed to let Billy have the house if he paid the mortgage, taxes and maintained it in a reasonably good state. It did not take long before we had to pay all of the former out of our own pockets as Billy remained unemployed and more interested in partying with his friends. Billy was turning the place into a crack house for his druggie friends. Sheri, Jeanine, and I met to discuss the situation. We agreed to sell the house and split the proceeds four ways.
The practically non-existent relationship that I had with my brother went even further south after we sold the house. He once said that my sisters and I got all the brains, and it was not fair. He felt that he should have kept the house and that we could keep paying his bills. I was living in another state and wanted nothing to do with him. About the only time for the next ten or so years that I heard from him was around Christmas time. I guessed he was angry about the house but I did not care. The less that I heard from him, the happier I was.
Jeanine would fill me in on Billy’s various shenanigans which were always good for a laugh. It seemed that he had little desire to do anything with his life except drink, drugs, and smoke. The only time that I did hear from him was to borrow some money. Jeanine routinely gave him money. I was a more difficult touch as I did not feel any guilt over his lifestyle. I did occasionally break down and give him some funds when I could afford it and did not expect to be paid back. I had nothing to worry about on that score.
More years went by and sometime around the beginning of 2008, Billy contacted me and asked for a loan of $300 dollars. It surprised me that he was so adamant about it being a loan. He did not expect it to be a gift. He assured me that he would pay me back in full before Christmas of that year. I gave him the loan and reassured him that I did expect it to be paid back. You can guess the outcome.
Christmas of 2008 came and went, and I did not hear from Billy. I was angry and fed up. I called him after the holidays were over to find out where my money was. I received the excuse that he just did not have it and he was sorry. I lost my temper and cursed him up and down. But I was not through with him. I went to the computer and wrote the meanest, cruelest letter that I have ever written. I told him that if he had been run over and was dying in the streets and all it took was one cent to save his life, I would not give it. I read the letter to my sister Jeanine. Sheri my younger sister by one year had died of cancer six years before. Jeanine did not say much at the time. I put the letter in an envelope and mailed it to Billy and Linda. At the time, I had no regrets. I thought of it as a form of tough love or shock therapy. I thought it might make a difference. Why did I not have a real brother instead of someone like him, I often wondered?
Well, communication between Billy and I grew less and less frequent. Considering it had never been frequent, it was more like hardly ever. I reasoned that Billy had received my letter and was now even more angry than before. Five or more years went by. Christmas cards and Christmas calls did not happen between us anymore. Then gradually, a call every six months or so would happen. Karen and I started to send and receive Christmas cards to and from Billy and Linda. I guessed that he had put my mean letter behind him and was attempting to move on. I wanted to forget the letter and often thought of apologizing for it but just could not bring myself to do it.
Billy died at the age of 64 on July 6, 2022. He had suffered from many illnesses primarily but perhaps not entirely due to his lifestyle. According to Linda, he went into their bedroom to lay down and take a nap. She went in later to talk to him and found him dead.
The story really begins here. The stuff above is simply prelude.
Jeanine: Calls me on phone from RI to Wisconsin. “John, Billy died yesterday.”
John: “How did it happen?”
Jeanine: “Just passed away. They are calling it a heart attack and will not do an autopsy.”
Jeanine is crying and very distraught. I reasoned it best not to go into any details at this time in terms of funeral or whatever. Knowing Billy and Linda had no money, it would fall on Jeanine and I to take care of any burial expenses. Some days go by, and I call Jeanine.
John: “What do you want to do about the funeral?”
Jeanine: “I would like to have a regular church funeral and burial for him.”
John: “I am sorry that he passed but I am not willing to go for a big elaborate funeral and burial. I will split a cremation and simple burial with you but that is as far as I will go. I am not going to pretend that I am all teary eyed about his passing.”
Jeanine: “I will get back to you on this.”
A few days later, and Jeanine calls me back. Without talking to me she has made funeral arrangements and set a date for the service.
John: “Jeanine, I told you that I am not willing to spend this kind of money on such an elaborate funeral. This is your show and your expense. I am not planning to come out for the funeral. Billy was less a brother to me and more just someone I knew in passing. I am not going to be a hypocrite now and pretend to be all mournful.”
I had discussed my response to Jeanine with several friends and asked each what they would do. Most agreed with me and said they would set a limit on how much they would spend. They all implied that Jeanine felt guilty and was making reparations by this funeral. I did not feel guilty except for one thing. The mean nasty letter that I had sent to Billy thirteen years ago.
I could tell that Jeanine was somewhat miffed by my response. A certain distance seemed to come between us. For my part, I thought she went overboard. As things worked out, she did not have enough money to cover the gravestone that she wanted to put on Billy’s plot. I sent her a thousand dollars to cover a portion of the expense. It seemed to mend our relationship and in February of this year, 2023, Jeanine came out to Arizona to visit for a week. The story continues from there.
Jeanine and Karen went to the health club the second day of her visit to work out together. Upon their return, we have the following discussion.
Karen: “Jeanine wants to tell you something, but is afraid that you will be very angry.”
John: “Ok, I promise no matter what, I will not be angry.”
Jeanine: “Do you remember that letter that you sent to Billy many years ago?”
John: “Of course, I remember it. I still regret that I never called him up to apologize for it.”
Jeanine: “Well, Billy never got it.”
John: “What do you mean he never got it?”
Jeanine: “You told me about the letter and I went over to Billy’s apartment each day to intercept the letter. One day when Billy was not home, I went over and asked Linda if she had received a letter from you. She said that it had just come that morning. Billy had not seen it. I asked her for the letter and told her I needed it and not to tell Billy about it. Linda simply gave me the letter and I destroyed it.”
John: “Are you kidding me? You were tampering with US Mail. This is a serious offense, Jeanine. For thirteen years, I fretted over sending that letter and whether I was going to apologize for writing it.”
Karen: “You promised not to be angry.”
John: “I am not angry. I don’t know what to feel: relief, disappointment, gratitude, regrets. It is just hard to believe this. You waited thirteen years to tell me. Well, it is all just water over the dam now. I will never know what would or would not have made a difference in my relationship with Billy.”
The End – Almost
The last few years of Billy’s life, he seemed to change. I was noticing postings of his on Facebook and he seemed happier and more thoughtful. He was taking time with his son Jacob and was engaged in other activities besides drinking and smoking. Jeanine told me that he had quit drugs, drinking, and smoking and was trying to clean up his life. I was skeptical and did not believe what I was hearing. Jeanine often had rose colored glasses when it came to Billy. With the advantage of hindsight, I believe he really was making an effort to live a real life. I wonder if I could have been a better brother to him or how I could have made a more significant contribution to his life. I wonder whether or not Billy’s not receiving the letter was a good or bad thing. Mostly, I am glad that he did not.
“None of you believes until he wishes for his brother what he wishes for himself.” ―


I started running in 1975 after being a very good bicyclist for many years. I ran in freezing rain, below zero wind-chills and blistering heat. I even went out one time and ran with a tornado coming through the neighborhood. Like the U.S. Mail, nothing could stop me. Over the years, I met many people who would tell me “I used to run but my knees went out and I had to give it up.” I had enough sense not to tell them what I was really thinking so I usually said nothing or just a “too bad.” What I was really thinking was “If you really wanted to you could still be running.” The latter comment would be an example of neg-empathy. My silence was an example of neutral empathy. I did not make any connection to the feelings that the other person had, nor did I much want to. I could not identify with them since I ran “no matter what.” I was better than they were.






A few more months went by and one day I decided to come home from work early. As I entered my house, I heard screams coming from upstairs. I went to a desk and grabbed a loaded Colt Commander 45 ACP that I kept ready for emergencies. I feared that Ashley was being attacked by some unknown intruder. I ran up the stairs and into our bedroom. There on the bed was Ashley and one of the young lawyers from my old law firm. They were both nude and she was on top of him riding him like a bucking bronco. What I thought were screams of pain were screams of ecstasy. I had never heard anything like that from Ashley during our entire marriage.








The secular path is the path of the world. It is the path that says you need to have more of the things of the world to put in your basket. Getting more of the world’s stuff is heralded as the secret to filling your basket and achieving success and happiness. Some of the things people try to get more of include: Food, drugs, alcohol, fame, fortune, money, medals, accomplishments, status, power, knowledge, youth, health and titles. While some of these things might be useful in your other baskets, in this basket they simply do not work. The spiritual basket is immune to the things of the world. It is a truism that all of the great prophets and philosophers and thinkers have extolled. Sadly, it is a path that is promoted by too much of the world because it is driven by greed and financial profits. Buy that new truck and you will be happy. Buy that giant house and you will be happy. Read the latest diet book and you will be happy. How many times do people have to go down this path before they will realize that it only takes them in the wrong direction?
The great spiritual leaders like Mohammed, Jesus, Buddha and Baháʼu’lláh all had followers and tried to teach their followers by various means. It seems that the goal of enlightenment, samadhi or nirvana was achieved by each of the great leaders and even by some of their followers. Unfortunately for humanity and for most organized religions, these gurus and religious teachers all missed one important truth. “You cannot teach enlightenment.” Enlightenment can only be learned by example. We learn from our parents by the example they set for us. We learn by observing how they treat other people. We learn by what they do rather than what they say. The followers of the great prophets and gurus were learning their spirituality from what their teachers were doing and now what they were saying.





This theory says that happiness is dependent on other things happening in your life. You must have these other things going on or you will not be happy. If you have a good family, or good job or you have meaningful work, you will be happy. Contingency is like a correlation in statistics. The process of having a good family correlates with happiness but having a good family does not make you happy. Some things have a higher correlation with happiness than other things. Some people believe that having less things is more conducive to happiness than owning a bunch of things.
This could also be called the “Cause and Effect” theory of happiness. This theory says that certain things or activities will lead to the outcome of happiness. For instance, becoming an Olympic Gold Medalist may lead an athlete to happiness.
You will always be happy in proportion to how happy others are around us. If I have a great deal of money but my friends have more, I will be unhappy. However, if I have a bigger office than anybody else in the company, I will be happier than they are. The state of being happy will always be relative or in comparison to some other standard that I mark my happiness by.
This theory views happiness as something that has no limits. The sky is the limit. Extraordinary happiness awaits anyone willing to go for it. Every day will bring more and more happiness if you only believe it is possible.

I suppose in one sense, “life is not fair” means that life is indeed following a bell-shaped curve and some of us are on the undesirable end. In other words, some of us are too short, too fat, too unappealing, or any number of other less-desirable traits that we find on the extremes of the bell-shaped curve. Last night I was watching a 3-year-old do stunts on a sized down motorcycle. I could not do these stunts if my life depended on it. This young boy was a natural on the motorcycle. He took to it like a fish to water. We have all seen and perhaps envied some of the more fortunate on our bell-shaped curve who can do things we only dream about doing. For those of us on the wrong end of the bell-shaped curve, life will never seem fair.
I understand why so many people want to believe in heaven and hell. It would be much easier to go on living peacefully if I could really believe that there was someplace better to go to than this earth I now reside on. Too many bad days now seem to intrude on my equanimity. You and I and everyone else that resides on this 3rd rock from the sun are abused and tormented every day with disease, starvation, accidents, environmental devastations, and pandemics. I could handle all of these things but for one thing. It is called “mans’ inhumanity to man.” The stupid cruel things we do to each other over and over again. The wars, murders, and injustices that we inflict on other human beings. And it is not just the average person that inflicts these cruelties, it is the “best” people in the land. In fact, it would seem that the inhumanities done by those with the most money, most intelligence and those we call our leaders are the worst of all the brutalities and savagery that we see in the news each day.












