Mon Petit Frere
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away there was a little boy born on a desert planet called Phoenix, Arizona….. Paul O’Farrell is my little brother, by almost 3 years. He was born a LEO under a New Moon…. August 17, 1977… I was born September 10, 1974. Which means we were pretty much best friends our whole life or Irish twins. We were born at the perfect time to grow up on Star Wars, the 70’s. He is Luke and I am Leah. We each had our own Star Wars people action figures because I apparently played with mine too rough, Paul did not like me making his Han Solo’s legs loose. He was very very particular. About his clothing too. And he was adorable enough to get away with it. The amount of freckles this kid had were out of this world… oh my gosh. In high school I dragged him along for all of my adventures, stealing mom’s car, going to desert parties, and concerts… which included seeing Nirvana, Pearl Jam and the Red Hot Chile Peppers at the ASU Activity Center In Tempe AZ in 1991… he was in 8th grade and we had floor seats. I was 17. Eddie Vedder swung from the rafters, and we ended up in the pit for Nirvana.. it was incredible…and Paul got his big toe broken. He was a skateboarder so breaking body parts came with the package.. he handled injuries with grace like a champ. I visited France shortly after high school graduation and I began calling him mon petít frére upon my return flexing my French. It means my little brother (en francáis).. It stuck. I also called him shiny shoe man as he got older because he had an intense appreciation for nice things and good fashion. This kid was going places. He knew it innately. He ordered The Robb Report at the age of 10. He wanted to do and have it all. Above all, he wanted peace, love and good food. He became a chef and worked his way up to executive chef of a fine dining French Restaurant in Phoenix in his early 20’s. And then he decided he wanted to fly helicopters. I was like wait, what?! I loved stopping in at Sophie’s French bistro after work and having a glass of wine while my brother taught me about fine French cuisine. He moved to the Dallas Texas area around the time his first baby, Declan, was born to attend a helicopter flight school. My youngest child, Malakai was 1 year older than Declan and so I would make the trip to see Paul with toddler in tow. His flight school ended up going belly up due to unforeseen fuckery, so at the age of 30, mon petit frere joined the army as a warrant officer and flew the Kiowa helicopter. He was a living breathing superhero with a Gigantic heart and James Bond’s charm. He was wiser than he ever let on. And he did not die. I know that he is still with us, I feel his presence. The force is strong in our family and Paul James O’Farrell is a Jedi Master. The force lives on in his wife ( my amazing, gorgeous, and kind sister in law ) Mary and his 4 kids : Zach, 21, Declan, 18, Saffron, 15, and Astrid, 11. May the force be with you!