I don't know what to say to you on your birthday. The people left behind don't get the peace you get. The two of us...We have celebrated every birthday together.
It's your birthday Joe and I can't see you anywhere. Your mom sees you everywhere, but I only see you where we were. That space in time that we got to keep and no one else could touch. I won't write about times that were for just us, but I will tell about the time we slept on the pier.
We woke up with spiders on our faces. Literal, nasty spiders. We had fallen asleep while talking in the night about life and what real happiness meant to us. It meant different things. To Joe, it meant acceptance. To me it meant content. Both of us agreed we would rather die than end up nobodies.
You weren't ever a nobody. You were my best friend and brother. We went through some of the most amazing and terrible times standing side by side. You were the first person I called when something was wrong. You continue to be my little brother, even if you aren't here.
My eyes opened to the sun first. I squinted, then gained my bearings. I looked over and watched you snore. It was Thanksgiving and the morning was cool. I hit you and we both stood. I grabbed your hand for a moment and let go. I told you that I would see you at Thanksgiving. You said, "I'll tell mom?" Yeah, I'll be there.
Joe, Ive been rambling on trying to make the first birthday gone something other than hopeless. I've failed. You should be turning 36. You should be getting ready for our joint birthday party.
I left and as I pulled away, you sat there on the dock of a pier. I went to work, but didn't forget that one moment in time.
You stayed there on that pier.
Life is harsh and unforgiving. I miss you little brother. It's not getting better, but worse. I'll see you when I get a decent rocket to follow you with. I would have done everything different if it matters.
Happy birthday kid brother. May you see all of the beauty we never saw as kids.
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
