Showing posts from February, 2019

Birth and Death...and Birth Again

My brother Gene passed into the Great Mystery a few days ago. I feel like I've lost a limb.
Dr. Eugene Frederick Karson was born on October 23rd, 1935. A brilliant, athletic, consistently curious, and compassionate man, he was my idol, my inspiration, my colleague in the helping professions, a great fan of my fiction, and in our adult years my increasingly close friend. An accomplished and much loved internist to multitudes of SoCal families, a cherished husband and father and grandfather, a devoted uncle and cousin, he wore the mantle of responsible and reliable head of an eccentric and lively extended family with a natural grace, twinkly-eyed humor, and a wisdom born of his earlier recognition that—as he once put it to me—"life is very fair; it breaks everyone's heart."
He should know. Gene was initiated into heartache at a traumatically early age when his mother Edna died when he was three years old—needlessly, as it happens, since penicillin had just been invented …