I want to say a few words about Kevin, my brother.
Bear in mind, as I do, a passage of scripture. “For…your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Col 3:3
I cite this passage because I believe each human being to be ultimately a mystery. That does not mean we know nothing of one another, but it does mean that we know only the hither side of one another. The yonder side we do not know. Only God knows us hither and yon.
Kevin was more mysterious than most. But here is what I know: he had an outsized personality that could command a room or a stage. He was remarkably smart. No one was quicker than Kevin. He had a remarkable memory. His musical gifts were prodigious, even gargantuan. He enjoyed the attention and the accolades music brought him, no doubt. But in the end he cared about the music: he cared about getting it right. He cared deeply about the standards internal to the music. He cared about the standards imposed by his instrument, the guitar. He listened intently to the music and to his guitar, always trying to coax as much of the former as he could from the latter. He was a highly skilled artist.
He was also big-hearted. He hated suffering, and sought to end or soothe it whenever he confronted it. He was able to adjust on the fly to the people around him, family, friends, other musicians and, most notably, the patients he nursed, old or young, able or disabled. He laughed big; he laughed without ceasing. He had an insatiable appetite for life.
I admired his gifts and loved him. He sometimes exasperated me, sometimes infuriated me, as brothers do brothers. But I loved him. No one like him will replace him. No one is like him.