A day of note
First off, I want to wish my sister, Sally, a very happy birthday. I won't tell you her age, except to whisper that she is five years younger than I ("And always will be!" I hear her reminding me).
Sally, I hope you read this post, because I am stupid about saying stuff like this in person. For many years, you were just my baby sister. But you grew into a real sister and then, a real friend. You are an amazing woman, a great mom and someone I know understands me in a way nobody else can. I love you very much.
Now, save the rest of this entry for another day. Be happy and come back later.
Today is also a difficult anniversary. I don't usually bring this up on my sister's birthday, because she has enough of it from my parents, but today is the twentieth anniversary of my brother's death.
David will always be my kid brother and he will always be young to me. He was 26 when he died, but from my advanced age, I realize how very young 26 is. I will never get the chance to know the man that my brother would have become. I know we would have been good friends, because in many ways, we already were. I could totally count on my brother to share my passion for science fiction and fantasy, including a highly non-feminist, sex-laden series on a planet called Gor that we both found ourselves addicted to. He had a wicked sense of humour, a deadpan delivery and a sly smile that let you know that he got you good. He got me stoned once ( I do not get stoned, trust me) and laughed his ass off when I got called downstairs to help get dinner ready. I was mesmerized by the carrots I was slicing; he thought it was hilarious. He and my sister were attached at the hip pretty much from birth: we called them " The Littles" and she knew him better than anyone. He was an adorable red-headed little boy who grew into a gawky teen, then a more attractive young man. He was a classic geek that I think would have gotten even better looking in that geeky way as he got older. He loved Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. He was smarter than any of us. He had some problems with drugs and alcohol, but he was just starting to straighten out his life when he died (his death was not related to those things). He deserved to have so much more of life. And my sister and I deserved to grow old with him.
David, I miss you.
Sally, I hope you read this post, because I am stupid about saying stuff like this in person. For many years, you were just my baby sister. But you grew into a real sister and then, a real friend. You are an amazing woman, a great mom and someone I know understands me in a way nobody else can. I love you very much.
Now, save the rest of this entry for another day. Be happy and come back later.
Today is also a difficult anniversary. I don't usually bring this up on my sister's birthday, because she has enough of it from my parents, but today is the twentieth anniversary of my brother's death.
David will always be my kid brother and he will always be young to me. He was 26 when he died, but from my advanced age, I realize how very young 26 is. I will never get the chance to know the man that my brother would have become. I know we would have been good friends, because in many ways, we already were. I could totally count on my brother to share my passion for science fiction and fantasy, including a highly non-feminist, sex-laden series on a planet called Gor that we both found ourselves addicted to. He had a wicked sense of humour, a deadpan delivery and a sly smile that let you know that he got you good. He got me stoned once ( I do not get stoned, trust me) and laughed his ass off when I got called downstairs to help get dinner ready. I was mesmerized by the carrots I was slicing; he thought it was hilarious. He and my sister were attached at the hip pretty much from birth: we called them " The Littles" and she knew him better than anyone. He was an adorable red-headed little boy who grew into a gawky teen, then a more attractive young man. He was a classic geek that I think would have gotten even better looking in that geeky way as he got older. He loved Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. He was smarter than any of us. He had some problems with drugs and alcohol, but he was just starting to straighten out his life when he died (his death was not related to those things). He deserved to have so much more of life. And my sister and I deserved to grow old with him.
David, I miss you.
posted by allison | 5:14 PM
2 Comments:
Happy Birthday to Sally, and [heart] to you and your family. I love your bittersweet recollections of your brother here.
*hugs*
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