The Week in July 


7/10 to 7/17 

The anniversary of my brother's death will always come exactly one week before my birthday.
When we were kids, he'd lobby for a joint birthday celebration in July. But he'd always get another in August. The waiters would sing "Happy Birthday" at Patty's On The Pier in - where? Murray? Out on Kentucky Lake? Somewhere on water not far from Paducah. I was jealous, but I was a kid. Sometimes a sullen broody kid, as, today, I am a sullen broody man.
For no reason, now. For no good reason - my life is as good as it has ever been. As much as it was a smoldering chunk of discarded crap last year, it is good now.
But, still, I hate the death of my brother. I wish he could know, and I could share with him how things are turning out. I want to call him, hear his voice, busting each other up laughing.
I hate that he is dead.  

Posted: Mon - July 12, 2004 at 08:32 PM           |

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