Hart Strings by Julie Hart

Author:Julie Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tightrope Books, Inc.
Published: 2013-09-04T04:00:00+00:00

In June of 1990, we welcomed Blade Colton Hart into the world. He looked exactly like Bret did when he was a baby. His eyes were black as coal and he had thick brown hair. He became our golden child. After he was born, we decided we were finished having kids. We now had our perfect little set of four cubs.

A few months later, Bret’s brother Dean died of a kidney disease he had been fighting for years. All we wanted to do was stop and mourn, but unfortunately that wasn’t exactly possible. I remember watching Bret in the Survivor Series pay-per-view the night after Dean died, wondering how he could do it. By all accounts, Dean was Bret’s idol growing up. I could see in the Hitman’s eyes that he was trying not to think of Dean as he wrestled. He had a lost look as he worked through his match. He was devastated, but the show had to go on.

Bret and Dean had been inseparable when they were younger. Bret would tell me stories of their childhood, and it seemed he learned more from Dean than anyone. Dean showed Bret how to use his imagination, and how to turn what he imagined into a living dream. I suppose growing up on the outskirts of Calgary forced you to rely on your imagination to pass the time.

I had always been fond of Dean and always said that he and Bruce were the handsomest of the Hart boys. Dean looked like a cherub, with big, round eyes and loose curls of brown hair. I could see why Helen and Stu adored him. The first time I met Dean was during a Hart family Sunday dinner. I was standing on the veranda, watching the boys play football. I kept my eye on the smaller, well-tanned guy throwing the ball and running like hell in his cut-off jean shorts. I didn’t know it was Dean at the time. Stu rang a bell, calling us in to eat, and I waited on the veranda for Bret to come up before going in. As Bret walked up the stairs, Dean passed right by him and came directly over to me. “Hi, I’m Dean Hart.” His eyes and teeth looked so bright when he smiled that I lowered my gaze because of how beautiful he really was. Bret came over to introduce us, but saw from my shyness that I had already met Dean.

The last time I talked with Dean was a few weeks before he passed in November. He brought over a board game he knew Bret loved to play. Dean was pale and thin from dialysis by then, and quite stubborn about taking any medical advice. I suppose he was in denial more than anything. I can only imagine the pain he must have been feeling. Once Bret returned from Survivor Series, the Harts held the funeral. Owen was in Germany and sent a tape expressing his feelings about his brother. The rest of the family gave eulogies as well.

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