Life is messy.
Let’s explore it together.
The number “3” has always captivated me, as you did. Maybe the fact that you were 3 years older than me had a way of making 3 more important than even my own age. No matter how many years ticked by, that integer remained the same.
3 years apart. 3 years older, 3 years younger.
And now, 33 years of age on April 23rd, if you were still earthside.
You and me and 3... a love story that is sometimes rounded and whole, and other times lopsided and lagging.
Like grief. Like life.
How you continue to teach me, my brother. How you continue to ride the wave of life with me, through the pains and the joys, both of them delightful even as they can be excruciating.
Even now you remain a constant, like that integer. You always remind me to lighten up, to be playful, to not be afraid of myself or others or hardship. In the end, what is there to fear?
And I know that you’ll be with me all the way. Even though I cannot hold you or hear you or see you. You are here.
Today, you remind me to eat doughnuts and celebrate the fact that we’re alive. For a while longer yet, we’re alive.
Happy birthday, big brother. Tonight we will eat doughnut holes, have a dance party, and watch WALL-E, because I think you would have joined all of it, wearing that smile of yours.