HOW MANY SIDES TO A STORY

ROBERT ISENBERG

APRIL 17,2013

746 WORDS

                              HOW MANY SIDES TO A STORY?

       “I am so sorry for your loss. I cannot believe David is no longer with us and I 

can’t believe, I didn’t know about it till Friday night. I was with cousin Jared in NYC 

and I started talking about what a lovely and amazing person David is and he had to 

interrupt me to inform me of David’s passing.

      I’m so sorry I did not know, because I am so sorry, I didn’t offer my condolences 

sooner. David was one of the kindest men I’ve ever known and I feel lucky that I got

to know him. Please know I’m thinking of you.  Love Mia.”

      I called Dawn to ask who Mia is. I wanted to know, how she knew David. I really 

had a million questions. But I knew, I had to shut up. Mia wasn’t alone in her praise 

for David. Maybe, I was the bad guy. Maybe I’m still the bad guy, wondering how any   

one could see David as Mia did.

      Two days after my brother David died, the Rabbi called and asked if Dana and I 

would come to his office. He really had only met David a few times before David 

moved to Marblehead to live with Dawn.The Rabbi would deliver David’s eulogy in

a few days and he needed information about David. I had made a list to discuss with

the Rabbi. Dana had written David a beautiful poem for his seventieth birthday. We 

both remembered that Dana had written the poem with gritted teeth.Neither of us

could remember why she was upset with David. We both decided it was “as usual.”

      Our daughter Sarah had flown in from California for the funeral. She said she

wanted to meet with the Rabbi as well. We all told the Rabbi how good David was 

with his hands. We spoke that if you needed something fixed you called David. David

was one of the few people who really read directions. We talked about his likes: how

much he loved Brigham’s coffee ice cream and that it had to be hand packed: how

much he loved blue berry pie and that we never knew for sure exactly what the

requirements were to please him on the one we bought or made. I spoke about his

son Richard and how Richard was his strongest love. I told the Rabbi about the night

in September 1984 that David called me at 2 AM to tell me Richard was dead.He had

just gone back to Rice College for his second year. He was in the back seat of an 

automobile with his seat belt on, but never made it out of the car. I talked about 

Richard. I told the story that the week Richard was leaving for school, he came over 

to my house. He found me in my back yard. He didn’t say hello. He just took off his 

jersey and flexed his new found muscles. Richard had been working in some kind 

of construction job that summer and was also working out. He didn’t say goodbye

either, he just hopped on his bike and sped off. Mission accomplished. Richard and

David had a wonderful father/friend relationship. David taught Richard just about 

everything he knew, and Richard was also able to do the things that David never 

could do. David was not athletic. Richard was. David was not a good student.

 Richard was. David lost his son and his best friend.

      David and his wife Lorraine did not have a good or peaceful marriage. Soon

after Richard’s death they divorced. My relationship with David had changed almost

completely in the years following his marriage to Lorraine.  David and I, sharing the 

same room at our Dorchester house, were constantly at each other’s throats.

David also had mostly horrible relationships with the siblings who were still in the

household. But most of all his relationship with our mother was a disaster. My mother

would often say she didn’t understand David. Quite frequently she would hear from

other mothers on the street, What a wonderful son you have with David.”  Our 

mother would ask,”Where is that boy who comes to my house? Who is that boy that

comes to our house?” 

       David also had many friends. Frequently, they would congregate on our front 

porch. They were a mixture of very bright to very witty. Some were even exceptional 

athletes. Very often I joined with them on the porch. At one time or another, one of 

his friends would fallout of favor with David.I was only too ready to cozy up to 

whomever it was. I wanted to hear their side of the story.

                         TO BE CONTINUED: