One of my first memories of Aaron was of him dressing me up as a Mexican farmer or mustached bandit of some sort, a large pillow fastened around my waist to accentuate the comical stereotype he had in mind. Or perhaps the pillow served as protective cushioning as he found it hilarious to then roll me around the floor of the old farm house in Assendelft. I remember him laughing and laughing while I was rolling around and feeling proud that he was having so much fun with me.
Aaron was six years older and had my full admiration. He was like Superman to me, as I guess most older brothers are to younger siblings. He played the part of older brother so well though: always looking out for me, standing up for me when needed, pointing me to a world free from parental restrictions and stunting governance. He had been on a horse and wagon trip through Eastern Europe and Turkey after all, not only a world traveler at the age of five, but an adventure-worn traveler who had seen it all. And then I came into the world, an annoying underling no doubt, but he took me under his wings and showed me the world in our giant back yard, where we had goats and a peacock and everything that makes childhood so magical.
Not all his exploits were fitting for a three- or four year old or even five- or six year old, but I tagged along and these were the early seventies after all. We lived in an old farm, with a large property and then typical Dutch fields surrounding it. We were allowed to roam freely and have adventures, for if there was parental supervision it was discreet to the point of being clandestine.
Most days Aaron went to a Dutch school and had Dutch friends. He spoke Dutch. For whatever reason he retained only the more inappropriate Dutch words and expressions in later life. These he found the funniest, and they are. I won't list them here. It is to say that he had a life abroad (England, Bulgaria, Romania, Turkey, Holland and Canada) before he settled down in San Bernardino and environs. He left Holland to live with his father and (step)mother in Canada at the age of 9 (?), and would return for summer- and Christmas holidays. I hardly have any recollections of childhood without him though: his presence would immediately form memories. The rest was filler.
Aaron's imagination and willpower had little restraint, or none at all, as he built an impressively high tree house with booby traps surrounding it (basically holes in the ground filled with water and then topped by duckweed and grass) and on one occasion he transformed the garden shed into an elaborate haunted house. I was not allowed to go in there but I was very impressed with the whole idea. If Aaron made it, it must have been really scary. He had a predilection for the non-disney side of things.
My most vivid musical recollections involve Aaron listening to Alice Cooper and the voice of Vincent Price going on about black widow spiders and the nightmares of a boy named Steven. I was fascinated and terrified of this darker world, which apparently didn't scare Aaron at all. On holidays to the Dordogne and the Loire regions in France, listening to Gary Wright, E.L.O., Sparks and Cheap Trick... Most of my memories at this point are of him practicing on his acoustic guitar. Or while visiting us in Amsterdam, of going to record shops in Amsterdam, browsing for Queen and whatever rock-du-jour he was into. He loved music, and through him I do too.
Much later, many years on, he visited Europe and we made a road trip with our mother down to the South of France where we worked for three weeks painting some house. He was in his early thirties so we were both grown up, relatively speaking. Next to the house that we were freshing up was an abandoned church, one of those very small churches in a french hamlet, along a steam. In the evenings he would take his acoustic guitar and sit on the steps of the church and play Bach, or Vivaldi, or something of his own that he was working on. For anyone who has never heard Aaron play the classical guitar, or never heard him play Bach: I'm sorry. I so wish that I had made recordings and could post them here. The depth and beauty of feeling that he could convey through a guitar, not just his skills but mainly his timing, along with the acoustics and setting of this old dilapidated church in the middle of nowhere, was so special that I still kick myself for not having recorded it.
Through music he expressed the beauty of his soul (for lack of a more concise word) and although I had always looked up to him for many other reasons, he was at this point beyond a mere mortal's reach. It's nice to have Superman as an older brother but it can be a bit daunting.
It was around this time that he began to pursue a career in computer science and computer security. He was good at it, as he was good at most anything he put his mind to. That he now has a foundation named after him which will benefit the world and those of moderate opportunities to achieve a career in what he excelled at, should come as no surprise. He was always larger than the world around him, had more laughter and more love to offer than most. I sometimes wonder where he got all of this from, if it was some genetic fortune that he was born into, but it was so much more than that. His ability to love and care for those close to his heart was almost matched by his ability to care for anyone in his environment. Be it the nurse who had to insert a horribly uncomfortable tube into his body or a passenger in a train we say next to. He would always find the funny in everything.
Aaron was unique in so many ways. Like Obélix, he had fallen into a tub of magical substance, which made him so strong and full of life. He unfortunately hogged the tub.
What always makes me laugh is a memory of him, both of us returning late at night to our camp site in France after a night of heavy duty karaoke at the local bar (a one off), and subsequent drinking for hours with a castle owner and his wife who invited us over to their castle, and when we returned to our tents in the middle of the night it was very dark. Aaron was convinced he had found his tent and wished me a good night while he unzipped the entrance and clambered in. The startled scream of the rightful occupant and the series of profuse apologies by Aaron at this point always make me laugh out loud when I recall them.
He may not have been Superman all the time but if anyone ever came close…
