I've Been Meaning To Write...

I’ve been meaning to write.

Even that simple sentence isn’t simple. I’ve been meaning to write anything. You understand what it's like when you're not writing. You were a poet, a wordsmith. Sure, you were humble about your writing, and I am sure that you would demure if I said as much, but even your jokey way of telling a story or proposing an outrageous deal was an art form. Nobody made me laugh like you did.

You had a great laugh.

Oh, how I miss you.

I’ve been meaning to write, but it seems really stupid and self-indulgent to write to your dead brother. Do I post on your Facebook page? Publish on media? Shout into the darkness? What’s the best method of reaching out when you have something to share with a loved one that is dearly departed?

You would think I ought to know by now. Do you realize that it’s been 40 years since mom’s diagnosis rocked our world? Of course you do. You know everything now, right? That’s sort of obnoxious.

But yeah, we’ve been doing this sorrow thing for a long while. It’s tattooed in our very psyche.

We are grief creatures.

So, since you know everything, I guess you know why I’m here.

When I got the news at 4 am, I literally spent a moment trying to figure out what time it is where you are. You were the first person I thought of calling. Now I’m sitting in the dark crying and trying to decide whether to go back to bed or make some coffee. I bet lots of others are experiencing the same right about now.

I don’t know if I can handle losing another friend. I know that I will handle it, but how much can the heart and soul take? How much pain, sorrow, suffering?

I want to rage, as he did so frequently. He was always so angry about the injustices in the world. Another friend posted asking for prayers for our friend who needs a new heart because he used up the old one caring for people. That’s quite apt and set me to crying.

He was passionate and could be really loud and obnoxious about the people and causes that he believed in. A part of me wants to take up his mantle of in-your-face, aggressive, unfiltered raging for justice, equality, human rights, and Michigan State athletics! GO GREEN!

You came to mind because you know the family, but also because of the close association. The last time I saw his brother, he was with you. That was the last time I saw you. I want to reach out to his brothers and…and what? Say I know how much this sucks, this hurts, this absolutely destroys you. That losing a sibling is one of the worst things that I’ve ever experienced, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

My heart breaks for his brothers, his friends, his kids.

My heart breaks for myself. For the boy with feathered hair and acid-washed denim who kissed me under the stars: now an old man on life support, and it doesn’t look good. I mourn all the kisses, the talks, the stories, the laughs, the bullshit, the beers.

I have so much more to say. I really should write more often. They ought to let us call once a year or something – there’s so much that I want to tell you.

Have you heard about the new Boba Fett? Dude! Remember when we got that action figure, and we were so disappointed because we had no idea who “the bounty hunter” was? Well, now he has his own show and a badass Vietnamese sidekick! More about that later.

For now, I wanted to let you know how much I love you, and to ask that you keep an eye out for our buddy and look after him if you can.

Thanks, bro.