Next Tuesday, May 22, is my 23rd wedding anniversary. I was married in 1984 to my soul mate. Oh, I know that sounds corny, but it was true then, and is truer today. A second marriage for both of us, we have laughed, cried, fought, made up, and built a wonderful life together.
Sunday, May 20, will be 10 years since my brother, my only sibling, died. Although he struggled for fourteen years with heart disease, his death pierced my heart like a knife…and still does. He was six years older than I, and our relationship ran hot and cold, but he was my own flesh and blood. Whether he was stuffing me in an ottoman when I was five, and then sitting on the lid, I might add, or beating me in the Bulleit Family Golf Challenge, he was my brother…my flesh and blood and I still miss him terribly.
My husband and I spent our 13th wedding anniversary attending his funeral. This year is a milestone…ten years since he died. The pain has dulled, but will never go away.
* To read more about my brother, read my short story: Remembering Rhubarb Pie
