So I’m sitting here, in pain, sipping on a cappuccino, realizing that my brother Tom died almost a year ago. I decided to make a Find-a-Grave entry for him. After I wrote a short biography, I sorted through photos. Find-a-Grave allows only five photos per person. I concentrated on photos that I remembered -either from being present at the time or from sorting through that enormous box of black and white photos that sat in my mother’s closet. I figure that others in the family can pick their top five.
The result? I’m sitting in the Panera in Tualatin, Oregon with tears streaming down my face. I hurt like hell in body and spirit. God, I miss him. I miss calling and having that lilting voice ring out, “Wellll, hello there.” Or his calling me and announcing, “Lil’ Tommy here.” I miss his stories and his hugs. I miss knowing he was there to protect me - even in my 60’s. I just miss him.
So I sit in the Panera wishing I could down some Vicodin for the physical pain and realize that I’m just a mess. I hurt too much to sit with people who hurt in the hospital. I hurt too much to put on a positive face and deal with staff and patients. I just hurt too much today. I miss the big brother who was always there. The big brother that could relate to my spinal pain and maybe give me an encouraging word.
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