March 27, 2006

His name was Albert

If you would have known him you would understand why he was and still is such a grand inspiration. We could literally read eachother minds. Words had not been spoken yet they had been thought of and acknowledged. It was difficult to separate where he ended and I began, that's how close we were. To understand that relationship is to visit the past. As a child, he was one of the first people I recall ever seeing. Everything he did intrigued me, everything from his mannerisms, his smile, his many talents, his drive, love and his compassion. It was futile to try to grasp what his goals and dreams were and I wondered why? I eventually figured out that he hadn't limited himself to one or two or even three things for his life. His eyes sought further than most of us could even glance.

He had the ability to effortlessly shower people with concern and care without losing himself in the process. His presence of mind was spread to so many areas that he reached so many people in his short time on this earth. He was loved by all from the moment he was born. Everywhere he went he was well received with the exception of one place and that didn't stop him from being himself. He rescued lost dogs constantly, helped all kind of animals in need. He'd take stuff apart just to see how they worked and put it back and they he would add things to it to make then work even better. He could sell anything to anyone yet the irony is that for the most part people came to him, not the other way around. He was that approachable. To be in his presence felt normal for me not being in it felt awkward.

The person that I writing about today and whom I have missed for so long is Albert, my deceased brother. To state that the day he passed away a piece of me died with him, is a gross understatement. He is at the center of some of my articles including the Dealing with Loss article. Time has quickly passed as it has been close to 24yrs since his death.

There are some things in life you never really chose to get over. I accepted that his heart no longer beats, that he was buried at the sound of Military Taps being played in the background and that the flag that draped his coffin given to his widow yet despite this farewell he lives because his memory lives on. He passed away one month before his only son was born yet he lives on through his son and now his grandson.

March was the month he was born in and every year at this time I feel him closer than ever. The fond memories of him gets me through some of the rough days and I am better for it. For if he had one day where he was down, I never saw it. For if he saw me down he would make sure he made me laugh so I could see nothing other than happier days ahead. I wish you could have met him and that way you would know first hand that I am not even close to exaggerating about him. On the contrary, I left so much out. I doubt he would be happy that I am missing him the way that I do, he would rather I smile, laugh, dance and live not mourn what is never to be again.

My high school's graduation party was the last event we shared together. I wouldn't consider going with anyone else. He always knew the latest dance steps. He danced with some of my friends too, it was a wonderful evening, him so tall and dashing full of life, everyone had a great time. He kept me to my strict curfew. I wanted to stay with my friends, he had to work the next day so we left, then he tragically died one day later.

Right about know this is where he would say get up, walk away from this, go enjoy your day, so that is what I intend to do. At some point I'll watch a funny movie and laugh until I cry bitter sweet tears, happy to have known him, sad to have lost him. Never-the-less I'll always have his memories to lovingly and gratefully hold on to.


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