Written by: Gentry McShane Harrison

The past few days have been intense and surreal as I’ve been trying to figure out how to open up about it in a way that feels right for me. My older brother, Trevor passed away on Sunday due to a lethal dose of Fentanyl just 2 days after being released from his most recent prison sentence.

While our relationship as siblings had always been pretty contentious I had made the choice to cease communication with him these past six years. Not only due to my own frustrations with the disrespect I felt from him in his ongoing condition, but also out of a unique type of love. Knowing that our dynamic was a toxic one which I did not feel equipped to heal and to which he lacked interest in taking responsibility for. So, in many ways I have already done a tremendous amount of grieving over him.

Trevor was an Aries sun, with an instinct to lead, often being the one in his crew of skater and tagger homies to host after school kickbacks at our house growing up. He used to let me tag along even though I was rarely interested in getting in to the types of trouble they would be getting in to. He was a talented visual artist with a passion for drawing, and had an excellent sense for space, shadows and color. He maintained a long held interest in history, specifically in wars, ancient civilizations, and US government. He always had an eclectic taste in music, which had me being one of the few kids in the 3rd and 4th grade bopping around and singing along to the likes of Nirvana, Green Day and The Fugees. He later developed a taste for EDM and spent time going to raves and traveling to music festivals. Most importantly, he was a protective older brother for me and my younger sister, making sure that people knew not to mess with us and teaching us how to stand up for ourselves when necessary.

I wish that he had been able to get to a place where I could have shared these positive memories with him but I also realize it was not entirely his fault. There were several factors that were out of either of our control which inevitably contributed to many of these dysfunctions.

The hardest thing about this situation for me is that I am just shy of 40 years old and now both my siblings are deceased, having lost my young sister Mckenzie in a car accident 20 years ago this September when she was almost seventeen years old. Even though this may not seem like the most dignified way to eulogize him, I feel that it’s important to share my feelings about it from a place of authenticity. Not only for my own relief but to speak to a unique form of grief that isn’t always so clear cut in its way. The love of family has the capacity to be much messier than we are often led to believe and it is crucial to consider that for others, especially in times of great loss like this.

Love You Bro!

RIP Trevor Wilkinson Harrison (March 26th 1981-August 18th 2024) 🍀🫀🌵💫🖤

Sweet Baby James

He was but a wee child maybe two

years old. When putting him to bed I

would play guitar and sing to him. The song was Sweet baby James by James Taylor. After a few months he became so familiar with the song whenever hearing it he became visibly distressed and would cry uncontrollablely. He associated the song with bedtime knowing play time was over. I found his reaction to be rather humorous which caused me to sing the song or play it on the stereo to tease him. I also demonstrated his reaction to family and close friends who thought it was equally amusing. I stopped using the song as a lullaby feeling it was a little cruel to torment him in such a manner. As he became older with the ability to voice his dislikes whenever he heard Sweet Baby James he'd leave the room or turn off the song. As a young man I asked him his reason for why he despised the song. He didn't know why it bothered him but he became uncomfortable and angry whenever he heard it playing. His mother finally told him why the song may have possibly caused him to behave the way he did. He confronted me about my conditioning experiment when he was 32 or so and we were shit faced drunk and stoned on a beach in Costa Rica. He wasn't upset with me and I'm sure he didn't remember our discussion the next morning. A part of me has vanished with your departure Trevor. I will always remember our times together. Those memories will put a smile on my face. A tribute to your life.