27 years

ago.  And yet it seems like yesterday.  I can still see your pale blue, crinkled eyes.  I can still hear your laugh.  I still remember that precious night that we drank and visited and visited and drank and the night disappeared and still we talked and shared.  So much to say to each other.  And so little time to say it, though we did not know that then.

27 years ago.  And still you haunt me.  I wasn't convinced that it was you.  We never saw your body.  Did you pull a fast one?  For years and years, I kept dreaming that you did.

27 years ago.  And the pain of your absence is stronger than ever.  You are wearing my loafers.  I'll not forget giving them up to you.   I miss my brother - so many things to share, so many words never spoken, so many joys never known.

27 years ago.  And now I am older far than you ever lived to be.  But you were right about the tropics - I love them too.

27 years ago.  I remember the call, Mom's voice, the unfathomable sadness and my stupid, stupid response.  The tears, the service, the flight home, Dave's mom and dad meeting us at the airport and lending us the car, and then the emptiness, the unspeakable emptiness of the apartment.

27 years ago.  Pegbe wailing in the morning, unable to be comforted.  Mom crying.  Three confused little girls, beautiful and at a loss.

27 years ago.  Maup, Butch and I visiting the site.  But there was nothing left there.  Nothing of you after all.

27 years ago.  I love you, Joe.  I always will.  Even when you destroy a banana bread for no other reason than you don't care for it!  Crazy man.

27 years.