He was someone who would take out your garbage. Not because it bothered him for it to be there but because he felt it was something he should do. He was a gentleman like that and he was all too happy to do it.

He’d hover over me when I made dinner/breakfast because he couldn’t stand not helping out (even though cooking wasn’t really his thing). When he saw that whatever I was making was pretty much done, he’d rush over, grab cutlery from the drawer, pour the wine, paper towels, everything and then he’d set the table. From the first meal to the last one I made for him, this is what he did. I never, ever asked him to help or showed him where stuff was.

He just did it.

He was someone who felt a little guilty about drinking your alcohol but would never let you bring a bottle of wine to his place. The first time he showed up with several bottles of wine, to re-stalk my vino collection, I was shocked. This was a first for me.

I did buy him one of the scotches he liked, rum, whiskey…whatever he used to drink at home…and pistachios (he LOVED those) – because I wanted him to feel comfortable at my place. He reciprocated by purchasing (no less than) 5 different loaves of bread, once, (I ate toast in the morning) and honey. He didn’t know what ‘type’ of bread I liked…but rather than ask, he just bought one of every kind. I still chuckle over that!

I wrote him a love poem. He didn’t know how to take it, it was too early in the relationship for him and he was a little taken aback. My poetry is filled with metaphors and similes. He admitted he really didn’t ‘get all of it’. But, he was the kind of man who would read it over and over again. He printed it out, framed it and hung it up on the wall beside the bed. I didn’t notice until he told me. When he did, I burst into tears with love, respect and guilt (that I didn’t see it).

He was like that.

He’d do things for you but not make a big deal out of it. He was a giver.

Brian was… possibly the sweetest/kindest man I’ve ever met.