Just Remembrance

I don't think you ever knew that I loved you as a brother while you were here on earth. Now that you have gone onto eternity, it is a comfort to know that you are aware of how I feel. I feel badly for how we treated each other during the years we shared that house with my brother. But we were living in a drug and alcohol fueled haze. I have to say that while transgressions were committed on both sides, I know in my heart I was by far the worst offender. I wish I had the courage to tell you all of the things I wanted to tell you. To ask you for your forgiveness. To tell you that I loved you. And after we had the 'big fight' , I had hoped we would one day reconcile and at least share a fond memory or two and move on with our lives. But that was not to be.

When I found you had passed from the cancer we all thought you had beaten, I almost drove off the road. A mutual friend's mother had told me of the news as I called looking for him. She assumed that I knew of your death. She must have felt badly as I sobbed like a baby over the phone. The tears flowed for hours and I believe the only thing that stopped them was talking to our good friend. You see, he had dealt with your passing some 6 years previous whereas for me, you had just died. I found some comfort in his words but I knew I would always carry the burden of not having been able to tell you how I really felt before it was too late.

It was my fucking pride that prevented it, dear friend. I know this as surely as I know the sun will rise in the East tomorrow. I know where you are, you are at peace and can see my suffering. I also know you would tell me it's cool if you could. For now, I will just have to rely on faith.

I dream of you often and have since the 'big fight'. In the dreams, there is usually a common theme. I ask for your forgiveness. Nine times out of ten, you give it to me. Every once in awhile you don't or at least that is the impression given. And I am always saddened by that. Sure it's silly as I know you did not take any negative attachments with you to the other side . . . but I'm still here. And I'm human. And I don't think that part of me will ever heal all of the way. Which I am taking as a good thing. The open wound is a reminder to let things go as needed for you never know when someone you love and care about will shuffle off this mortal coil, never to be heard from until you pass on into the next . . .

I love you. I miss you and I know we will meet again, dear friend.

Cheers.