Absolutely Feisty has a post that primed me. I posted this as a comment:"Roy's birthday is Dec 2nd. So my memories usually start then with a call or email to my mom. To remind her that I remember."
We are/were, what is called I'm told, Irish twins. We aren't Irish. I was born January 12th and he was born Dec 2nd of the same year. He was so outgoing, so many friends, so young. At the age of 21 he died in a car accident. Our family was never the same after that. Some of us can talk about him but my other brother who was riding with him can't/doesn't. I believe that by talking about Roy I honor his memory. It's taken a long time to get there. For a long time it was easy to pretend that he was in Canada (where he is buried) or Florida (where he died). Living his life, not writing or calling. Isn't that just like a young man to behave? Being so far from my family it's easy to forget who is living and who isn't. But over the years I have gone to visit his grave, tend the flowers I planted there. I've sat next to his stone and poured my heart out. I've even brought my husband to meet him. Funny in a weird way isn't it? I've dreamed of him years ago, twice. He smiled the whole time, without ever saying a word, like it wasn't allowed. After that I felt like all was well with him. I miss him enormously. More than anyone else who has gone. And there are some very special people who have. My grandmother after whom I was named. Her husband, my grandfather, after whom my bother was named. And my great uncle, my grand father's brother, who taught me how to drive. By these two men I judge all men. Most are lacking. But luckily my guardian angels lead me to my husband. Who just so happens to be a Sagittarius like my brother Roy. Hmmm
AF, I wish you dreams. Dreams that give you peace, that make you smile, that you see James and he's happy.