I always think of my brother on May 13th. It's his birthday. Even though he died on January 16, 2005, I think of him every day. I miss him very much. He didn't merely live, he REALLY LIVED. The sight of him filled your eyes, and the sound of him filled your ears. He was not someone you could overlook or ignore. He was not a perfect person by any means. None of us are. But as far as I'm concerned, he was a perfect brother. Not that we didn't have arguments or fights, all brothers do, but I couldn't have asked more from him as a brother. He was a good companion, a fiercely loyal friend, and even though I was the older brother, I learned many things from him, some of which he didn't know he was teaching me.
I probably will not have a chance to visit his grave today, but I will be thinking of him, and missing him. I will see him again in awhile. But not yet, not yet. Happy Birthday, Jeff.
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