13 Years Later

There are things that we think of every single day. What to eat. Chores. Pooping. Just regular things that come across your mind every day like normal folks. For the past 13 years there has not been a single day where the thought of my brother Kevin that died when I was 22 years old doesn't cross my mind.

It's not as romantic, thoughtful, or pleasant as it sounds. In movies when you hear people say they think of someone every day it sounds nice. I'm here to tell you that it isn't as sweet as it seems. It sucks and it hurts. Yeah, a lot of the time when I think of my brother I think of all the funny things he did or said. I think of hanging out with him. Teaching me how to drive at the age of 9. Watching wrestling. Waking up mad because his allergies would make him scratch his ear and clear his throat super loud.

But other times I just remember that he is dead.

Everyone handles death differently. My family doesn't really talk about it much. No one has ever sat down with me and talked to me about how I feel about my brother being dead. I haven't done it either. I know why I don't. It's because even after all these years I'm still pissed at them about it. I'm bitter and I know it. I was very close with him and being robbed of the chance to speak to him every Monday like we used to sucks.

I have other brothers but we aren't even close to being close. I can't even tell you their phone numbers. Recently one of them called me not to have a conversation and see how I am doing, but to ask for something. Like always. That is the only time nephew, my brother, and cousins I never hear from call. The thing is, I don't pretend. I won't call, start small talk, and then ask for something. Most of my family has nothing to offer me. And I am fine with that.

Today is the 13^th anniversary of the passing of Kevin and I spent the day eating, smiling, and laughing. As angry that I get that he is gone I end up smiling anyway because he was a good dude. You don't meet many of those. No, he wasn't close to perfect but he was good. And I miss him.

Having someone you actually love pass away sucks. It can't be compared. I can't compare how his death made me feel to the deaths of my grandmothers, or to how the death of one of your family members made you feel. I got to spend 22 years of my life with him and still wish I could have one more day to talk but that isn't happening so I try to make sure the people that I do love know it.

Make sure if you really love someone that they know it. Don't just say it as a way to say goodbye to them. Actually give them a call and really talk to them. Make sure that the last thing you said to them was something kind, funny, or good because once they are gone you can't get a do over. I know it sounds silly, but I miss him calling me a nerd and making fun of my weight whether I was too big or too small. I miss talking every week about work, the family, and random things. I just hope that I make someone as happy as he made me.