My brother, Bill, would be 46 today. He died almost 14 years ago. A suicide. The hole in my family has never healed and the wounds around it are still raw and painful after all these years.

At least a part of my sadness is based on the fact that we weren't close as children -- we were set up in competition with each other...I was the elder, he was the boy. We were both smart, but he was seen as the golden child and I was the "difficult" one. When we were older, I was in Europe and then NYC and he was in the Navy (overseas or in CA), and we didn't see each other often. About six months before his death, he left the Navy and came to NYC to go to school. We had a chance to spend time together and to start getting to know each other as adults, developing a friendship and relationship, losing the old baggage. And then, suddenly, it was gone.

He was a good man who cared about others. He wanted to get an MBA and work with people in developing countries, very much like does...lending small sums to entrepreneurs to help them build their businesses.

Happy Birthday, Bill. I miss you.


willowoak: (Default)
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