Today the weather was so much like it was 16 years ago today: clear and crisp and full of promise. That feel of autumn just nodding its head, the school year starting, new beginnings. Still, I was tugged back to one of the hardest days ever, because that's what painful anniversaries do. Three hundred and... Continue Reading →
It's my brother's birthday again, the day each year when I marvel at what age he would be if he hadn't died — nearly 16 years ago now — from a fall while hiking in the Colorado mountains, and I deeply wish he were here so we could celebrate in person. Nevertheless, I always like... Continue Reading →
Me and David on his birthday in 1977 or 1978, I think... Every year on this day, I celebrate the fact my big brother was born. And I mourn the fact that he isn't growing any older, since he died almost 15 years ago. Today, David would have turned 62. Sixty-two! An age that, when... Continue Reading →
You know it’s been a long time when you think it is the 15th anniversary of a death and then realize, counting backwards, that it's actually the 14th, and your brain has done bad math again. It might as well be the 100th, it feels so long. Or the first, all over again, because there's... Continue Reading →
It's just past Halloween, and we've finished All Souls Day on the Christian calendar, a time to commemorate our departed ones. Now Mexico is in the midst of Day of the Dead celebrations, one of two — or more — days for remembering and mourning those we loved and lost. I am so grateful for... Continue Reading →
It's the eve of my forty-eighth birthday. This is the last day I'll be the same age my big brother David was when he died — and, tomorrow, I'll be older than he ever got to be. When your sibling is already 12 at the time of your birth, and you are forever looking up,... Continue Reading →
Today marks my big brother David's 60th birthday. I doubt he ever imagined himself at 60, so youthful was his entire sense of being, but I do. I try to picture him every year on March 13, marking the march of time, celebrating that he was born, guessing at how he'd look each year, and... Continue Reading →
This week marks 12 years since my big brother David died. David was born 12 years before me. I'm now the same age he was when he fell 200 feet while hiking in the Colorado mountains: 47 years old, 47 years young. It's weird enough being his age. But, next year, it will be 13... Continue Reading →
[Not quite the same ring as Stevie Nicks’s “On the Edge of 17”...?] I'm in a brief liminal state between 46 and 47 years old right this minute; my birthday is tomorrow. When I was born in June of 1973, my big brother David was already 12. Numbers. Ages. They're hard facts, and should seem... Continue Reading →
Today is my big brother David's birthday. He would have turned 59, and would probably have been freaking out about being on the verge of 60, which I'm certain he would have considered O-L-D. Ironically, aging seems to be one of the only things he was afraid of. It's also Friday the 13th, and we're... Continue Reading →
True Scrawl 