Happy Birthday, Tim

Today my brother Tim would have turned 48.  The youngest of four, he would have been the only sibling still under age 50.  He only got 11 birthdays.  I am coming up on 54.

I never acknowledged Tim’s birthday to my parents.  I never called to ask how they were doing on that day.  I deeply regret it.  Trust me, people who have lost someone appreciate it when you bring up that person’s name.  They lived, they mattered; there were lots of good times together.  A birthday is something to celebrate, even after a person is gone.

I saw a Facebook post a few days ago that said something like:  “I tripped and fell into some feelings, but I’m okay now.  I brushed that shit off.”  That’s how it works for a while.  Until you can’t do it any more.  We missed 37 birthdays with Tim.  That’s a lot of shit to brush off. 


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