Oh, Brother

As I get older, I have more and more trouble processing the duplicity of time. On one hand, it seems like Emily was born just yesterday; on the other, it seems like she has been around forever. I can't articulate a life before she was here.


It's that duplicity that bothers me when I think about my brother. He died 20 years ago this fall, and I remember it like it was yesterday. His presence is etched into me. At the same time, it hurts when I think about everything he's missed. Of course, he didn't get to see his two beautiful children grow up into well-rounded, responsible adults. He didn't see the Berlin Wall come down. He wasn't here to share the grief involved in 9/11.




Strangely, it's the little things that bother me most. He would have LOVED the new Mustang. He never listened to a CD or owned a cell phone or a computer. He never got to ski on the new D3 waterski, which is the bomb. He missed Tivo! He would have LOVED Tivo. He missed the UFC. He never had an awesome snowmobile.




He never met my husband, which is hard for me because I think they would have been kindred spirits. They missed snowmobiling trips together, waterskiing tournaments, dirt bike weekends.

He never traveled overseas, vacationed in Hawaii. He never got to go scuba diving, which I know he would have enjoyed. He never jumped out of an airplane.

But he didn't miss everything. He married his high school sweetheart and stayed married until the day he died. He had two kids that, despite losing their father at 2 and 6 months, have turned into amazing young adults. He bought a house, worked a job he liked (I think), and spent time with friends and family.

He fought a battle that no one deserves to fight. He suffered through radiation treatments that forced him to lose his hair and his strength. He wore a tuxedo with a mohawk to my cousin's wedding, because the radiation had taken his hair.

So important to me now is the fact that both in life and in death, he changed who I am. He taught me the life lessons everyone learns growing up with a sibling. And he taught me to value what I have now, because you just never know when it can all be ripped away from you.

I miss him every day. And I wouldn't have it any other way. It helps me remember who I am. And why.