I’ve written about my brother before, and will continue to write about him. I miss Walt. 16 years ago today my brother died. Very sudden and unexpectedly. It was Memorial Day 2010. Walt was 55 years old. I still ponder why he had to die then, at that young age. Without the chance for farewells and goodbyes. For his Mother and me, and other family and friends to tell Walt how much we loved him, what he meant to us. When I reflect on these past 16 years I think of all I missed out on with Walt; phone calls, and visit, reminiscing together, and our making new memories. Things like sitting on fake deer in front of Rite-Aid and laughing right out loud at our own silliness, photos with Santa at Wasem’s, or trying on Snow Shoes at the sporting goods store in Lewiston. Walt insisting he was going to buy snow shoes so he could rescue my husband snowed in at our home at Sunup Bay. Walt said snow shoes were the answer to trek across that deep snowy terrain. I didn’t buy snow shoes that day, but did a short time later. Then whenever I did go shooing I thought of Walt, and of us trying on snow shoes and traipsing around the store together that day in January, trying to get a feel for them. A dear, sweet, funny memory it is.
I think about how Walt wasn’t physically here to help me with our beloved Mom’s passing, or Gary’s or Dad’s. How alone I felt. And empty. But at the same time I knew Walt was near, on the other side of that thin veil ready to greet them at Heaven’s gate, and how glad they would be to see each other. Walt and Mother, and Gary and Dad.
On a sunny, summer afternoon when Walt was 9 or 10, and I was 13, I got the idea for one of our make believe games. Walt would be a model, and me the photographer, using our fairly new camera - the Kodak Instamatic 100 to snap pictures. Walt would change into different outfits, and I would direct on how he should pose for each photo. Telling my brother to stand this way or that, how to hold the fishing pole and what kind of look to have on his face. I didn’t have to tell him much, Walt was always so naturally photogenic. Among the photos I took are Walt with a football, a fishing pole - reminiscent of Tom Sawyer; Walt on his Schwinn Sting-Ray as if doing a ‘Wheelie’ and in his swimming trunks and snorkeling gear, like he was getting ready to star in an episode of Sea Hunt.
We even came up with a name, The Kathy & Walt Cooney Sports Modeling Agency. We were certain Sports Illustrated would be interested in our pictures; after all, how many hometown brother and sister photo teams could there be? And especially since Sports Illustrated launched the same year Walt was born. 1954. We thought that could be a worthwhile connection.
Alas, nothing ever came of our idea; partly because we didn’t pursue or further endeavor to have a brother & sister modeling photo agency, except our interest in cameras, and taking pictures. Through the years Walt would take pictures of his model cars, his dogs, days at the beach and camping, and lots more. He once took a picture of himself taking a picture, using a mirror long before ‘selfies’ became vogue.
Pictures, like letters leave an imprint, a remembrance of time and place; of family and friends. Of moments cherished and held dear. As I look at these photos I took of my little brother on that warm, summer day so many years ago my heart overflows with love, and gratitude for our times together and all we shared
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