This is my strength. This is my soul. This was my brother.
Tonight as I tossed and turned in my sleep I remember why I wished Joanna was here tonight. I can never sleep the night before your birthday. I always remember how you once told me, “Stop letting the fuckers get you down.” I’ve shed a majority of the weak links in my life. You told me that you were proud of me because I went to St. Louis to play in that poker tournament. Even though I was disappointed even though I final tabled it, you were proud of me for nutting up and just going. You kept me honest, and was fair to me. Even though I think your good heart was taken advantage of, you still loved those who betrayed you. That’s why you will always have a place in my heart and that’s why I still give my heart to those who need it.
Though you are no longer on this earth, I feel you touch my heart and soul each day. I am here for a higher purpose and I hope you will guide me to it. It’s been six years. And it hasn’t been an easy six.
Joanna asks me about stories about us and I bring up the days where we both cried and we were both strong. We’d play golf in a dust storm just so we could spend time together. Many people have asked me why I have the tile in my bathroom & kitchen and if I would change it. I told them to fuck off and I mean it. Those were the last things we did together. Though I watched as you worked using the skills that you had learned. Then you came up to the radio station to watch me work. We were both in awe of each other. I remember when you got up on the desk to sign the ceiling tile surrounded by radio talent who had signed before. You didn’t understand the pride the ratings meant to me, but you wanted to leave your mark. You found a blank tile and signed it :
I Love You Brother – Patman
I still have that ceiling tile in my office and it will go home with me when I leave. Not because I need the ceiling tile but because it is a link to you.
I’ve been strong when I once was weak. I’ve cried when once I hid my feelings. Nothing ever changes but yet it did. I don’t mourn your death, I don’t mourn your loss. I mourn not hearing your voice. I mourn not playing golf with you. I mourn talking poker and drinking Irish Whisky with you. I mourn a lot of things. But I see stars shining and I know you are there.
There are days where I wish I could be next to you, telling stories and calling bullshit on you as you have done so for me. But I guess I have more work on this earth.
Today would have been your 39th birthday and I would have given you shit all day. I can still hear you say “I can still take you old man.”
I miss you Patrick. Happy Birthday Brother!
Your Big Brother,
One thought on “Why I hate valentines day and I miss my brother.”
Wow, Sean, that’s really touching.
My brother and I are only physically separated, but by 13,000 miles at opposite ends of the planet for the past 25 years.
The times we’ve seen each other in between can only be counted in a few weeks and I just hope that Providence is benevolent enough to get me out of the financial rut that prevents it being more.
You’ve reminded me of the importance of overcoming my circumstances – just as with your golf in a dust storm, I crave the day he and I will get bitten to pieces by mosquitoes again out fishing in a boat somewhere.
Thank God for brothers and God bless yours. Keep those precious memories alive – he is still with you.
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