For My Brother On What Would've Been His 46th Birthday
My brother turns 46 years old today. Or, at least he does in my head and in my heart. His body can't age past 41 years old, the age he was when he committed suicide in January of 2006.
I suppose I should stop counting the years, stop counting the birthdays. After all, he can't enjoy a chocolate cake ablaze with candles, expectant observers clamoring for him to make a wish.
In my mind, I see him leaning over that cake, reading frosted letters that say, "Happy 46th Birthday." I imagine him inhaling till his lungs are full, closing his eyes and blowing his wish into an ether of cheering and applause.
But, in reality, my brother will never blow out another birthday candle. He had so many unrealized hopes and dreams for this life, so many birthday wishes that never came true, and sadly, now they never will.
Now he only exists in the spiritual realm, and although I can't be fully certain, I have a feeling they don't celebrate birthdays quite the same there. Truly, these days he has no need for candles and I'm sure his soul has new wishes and better dreams - things beyond what I can conceptualize.
Whatever those wishes and dreams may be, I hope my brother knows how much he's loved... and missed. The only present I can give him today are the prayers I said for the progress of his soul. I hope those prayers are heard.