Memories of my brother

This will probably become a larger series of things I recall about my brother.
I like how things just pop into my head and remind of yesteryear.

Today it was apple juice that I was sipping as I strolled back to my abode that made me grin like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

I hope I’m not the only one who recollects things all the time, my brain keeps on spinning all these memories to me, I only feel obliged to write them down, you see.
So as I was sipping on the bottle of apple juice, and I remembered the time my brother was in the hospital. Our mom was already there, so I was all alone in a big house with many caring neighbors around me.
Basically, as I was walking back to my home, I saw myself in Polanica-Zdrój, and I was 13 years old.
The hospital was on the other side of town from where we lived; even passed the river and if I remember correctly, passed Park Zdrojowy where a dozen springs of mineral water are squirting from the waterhole in the main building.

Several spouts around this octagonal mass flowing with a variety of mineral waters; hot, cold, not so carbonated and extremely bubbly…

Polanica-Zdrój is where the International Chess Tournament occurs every summer.
My mom, brother and I always looked forward to that each year for our own particular reasons. I guess my mom looked forward to some international company. She entertained many master chess players in our house. My brother was the chess aficionado and I spoke some English. We made a happy threesome and became friends with the best chess players in US, Philippines, Argentina. I’m sure there were other chess players we knew, but those three I remember dearly. So for a few weeks every summer I could practice my English, my brother played with the best and our mom partied with them royally after we went to bed.
We grew up watching Monty Python every weekend. In Poland, it was called “Roses of Montreaux” so brought some confusion when I got to US in the 80’s…

Needless to say, my brother and I were brought up by a very interesting woman. I believe it’s genetic somewhat. I wish my brother had more time here to express himself, he probably would be the new Andy Warhol (or someone else screaming of eccentricity).
To prove my point, as he was in the hospital, he asked me to bring him some apple juice.
This was in the 70’s and commie Poland, so it was only luck that they had apple juice for sale that day. You might not be able to conceive an empty store, but that’s what happened rather quickly. One day we could shop, the next day we stood in a line at 3am for food or shoes or anything else. The shoe delivery was odd. Soon you knew who else stood in that line- we all had the same shoes.

My mom was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia, a couple days later my brother was there with a broken leg. Oddly enough I was there a year later with a fractured heal. It’s only to say we are not the gracious type.
So I visited my mom in her room, then saw my brother in the kid ward, I brought him the apple juice he does not like so much.
He opened the can, had a couple of sips, poured some into a container and set it aside.

Eventually, a nurse came by and he told her he has a urine sample.
She was surprised and said she doesn’t think they needed one, so he twisted the cap open and drank what she thought was pee. I wish cameras were so common back then. My brother was such a hoot to be around. Like my mom, I miss him every day.