April 9, 1950- June 15, 2001

Today is my brother's birthday.  He would be 70.   He died when he was 51.  He was four years older than me.  When he died I was 47.   When I turned 51 it just felt so wrong.  And now I am almost 66.  I got so many years more than he did.

My brother was a good guy.  He had so many struggles in his life that it is especially sad that he didn't get a chance to get everything turned around.   He was working on it.  He had been sober for a little over a year when he died.   He was living with my mom and was really trying to save money and get back on his feet.

I resented my brother some. It seemed wrong that he was depending on my mom for a place to live and she cooked for him sometimes.  My mom was disabled and I thought that she was the one who needed to be taken care of.

I came to realize after my brother died that his presence in my mom's life was a real gift.  She felt useful and needed.  They got to spend time alone together and really come to know each other in ways that are often hard for adult children and parents.

And now they are both gone.

Blond siblings, baby me and big brother Dale 1955

Proud father bringing Molly home from the hospital 1987

Dale and Mommy.  Rolling Thunder in DC

Dale