July Drive

for the last time, yesterday around noon, we rode together again-
silence steals tangible, but in my grasp again we talked-
on the way to dad, this time II at the wheel, we laughed again-
Ere three, these two were soon to be, again-
another grave reminder; because often I forget-
but probably never again...

kpf/mrf

bro, give him a hug for me...these days not easy w/o either of you.

dad

awwww keek, cut it out....

pictures

I saw pictures of Kieron tonite...of when Kieron was Keek. Whoever left them on our kitchen counter had no idea what emotions they unveiled.

His smile was completely contagious, and if you were near it, you too would be infected.

Tonite I'd give my heart away to be in the same room looking at Keek's smile. I want him back...

3/18/2011

So it's done...your second birthday away.

Didn't see dad, or mom, or any siblings on the 50th year of you.

B-day presents bro...

Such is the sad reality presented when we're presented by death.

Lively occasions - remarkable days like the half-century mark of a birth - don't play out.

Fuck the whole notion

50

The eve of your 50th birthday Kieron.

With you, I envision a reflective Thursday, drinking Jameson's and engaging in another colorful conversation.

Without you, I'll still reflect... and I'll continue to miss you, your insight, your unique outlook on life.

I'll reflect on the impact and influence you had on me. I hate using the past tense because it reminds me of your absence. Also because it's not accurate; your influence guides me every day. Tomorrow will be no different.

Nevertheless, happy birthday.

I miss you.

I love you.

Michael

times like these

stalwart and humble KPF, is what you were...today we missed that...guide me more

March 2011

When an acquaintance, even a new one, relates to me a moment with their brother I grab a hold. When I hear a story about a brother, I instantly become the best audience this storyteller could ever imagine having. Please reveal a happenstance that allows me to imagine you.

I miss you brother, our times and more than anything those which should have occurred.

My promise: this year, beginning with 3/2011, I will make moments that carry on your essence. As time accumulates, your stamp on life will be revived and celebrated instead of the alternative...I will not let what you stood for fade away.

The cruel reality of your fate will never rest easy in me...at times, most of the time, I cannot find peace without having you here.

It saddens me to watch my children fight. While their not old enough to cherish it yet, in time they will understand that a brother's bond is one of life's greatest strengths.

I love you Kieron.

"Life"

Thoughts that wouldn't otherwise derive permeate my mind tonight.

Reason being, life has taken a dimented twist over the last five years, particularily in the last year and especially tonight, the one year mark - to this very hour - of Kieron's death.

Tonight the word life is at my mind's forefront. It needs a new meaning, an altogether different name. Because until recently a large part of life was Kieron. That's over now, and it's not easy redefining it.

Thoughtful ones might suggest Kieron's death, and death itself, is part of life. They're right...it's hard to argue, unless you knew Kieron. If you knew Kieron there's a retort, a natural rebuttal: Kieron was life. At least the one I knew.

His senseless passing convolutes its entire meaning.

In this circle the life I understand lacks luster. He was so full of it and it so full of him that its mere mention sounds foreign.

Life less Kieron must be renamed. Now as it stands, a great deal of its significance left.

1/1/11

KIERON!
KIERON!
KIERON!

I was such a believer in you! Your outlook continues to mold me.

2010 and Kieron Finnegan

Saturday, Jan 8th 2011 - 5 days away.

3/17/10; summertime 2010; fall and football 2010, holiday season 2010...2010 and all of its precious milestones differed.

The list of reasons that make death (especially a young, inexplicable one) unfair is neverending. What saddens me of late is one's legacy, or memorialization. As time passes since one's last day, he/she is discussed less and less...and so the memory tends to fade.

Maybe, hopefully I'm wrong, and the reason we talk less about Kieron since 1/13/2010 is because the sting of the loss lessens.

Kieron's legacy is no more championed by me than anyone else that loved him. But I cry out and this my promise: the more time multiplies, bigger becomes the room in my heart and mind for treasuring him.

Kieron Go Bragh, and ever.

808

Tonight I drive, and across the radio words ring Kieron. And he sits in the empty seat next to me, and we're on our way.

Talk about free...no worries... us, a dog, a cooler, a wad of fishing poles, and an obligation to wake up with the sun, to cast a line. And talk.

We were free. I was safe. He made it that way. He'd talk to me, ask questions that'd make me feel important because he'd listen with intent.

And when one of our taut lines yanked, he'd say "there". If it was his 808, I'd watch him as he set the hook, and felt his excitement. He'd reel, rod bowed, while my eyes alternated between his face and dancing line. Talk about free; there's no recollection I cherish more.

I loved Kieron Finnegan. I wonder where could he be, and what happened. He was beautiful. I look up in the bluebird sky, or the black sky, and wonder where he is.

Distance

Ironic it is that alive as I am, I feel closer to Death than I probably should. I go to bed with it every night and it awakens me most mornings. Of course I knew it was tough. Heresay told me as much...but I never knew just how tough b/c we were never formally introduced.

Kieron decided to be the liason on January 13th.

Now it's like an arch enemy. Now, quickly, we're familiar - last Thursday marks the four month anniversary of our acquaintance.

Death makes a God-awful first impression. But the lasting impression is in its follow-up work: Death makes memories wane. For sure, not many mention my brother much these days.

Dear Death: You can't take him from me.

2010 firsts, without

2010 means lots of meaningful days w/o Kieron. The first was his birthday, 3/17/2010. Today was my first birthday ever without my brother...43 years. It was also the baptism of our neice and nephew, Henry Finn and Juliet Guyton...another monumental day unshared by their proud uncle. Tuesday will be my son's 9th birthday, again the first w/o his uncle. As the months turn, more precious dates will endure and pass w/o Kieron. Special days in 2010 remain special but when I awake on these memorable mornings I think of Kieron first, and how much more special they were. Happy Easter bro, I miss the magic your smile made these days more magical. Good heavens how I miss you.

78 days

Losing my brother, and sharing a night with death at its onset and its reckoning, wrenched me...its aftermath does too, especially.

Especially the aftermath because with each day after, I am separated that much more by his last day. That it's now his death that ages instead of his life leaves it nearly unbearable.

So painfully and plain to see, but were it not for his exuberance for life; and mine for his.

Kieron Go Bragh

PS: April's 4th and 6th marks the birth dates of mine and Patrick's, respectively. One April 4th Kieron Patrick bought me a white polo shirt that I wore all spring with pride. Rest assured Patrick will be wearing a new white polo to school next Wednesday.

Happy Birthday Keek, we love you

Happy Birthday Keek!

I miss you so much.
I hope you can see all of us that miss you.
I love you very, very much.


Love Sarah Riley and family

Happy Birthday

I knew this day, your first b-day gone, would make no sense.

Slan Go Bragh

Irony is compelling. And you always found, and often spoke to me about the irony in life.

In 2010, on Jan 13th, you died on a Wednesday. Your 49th birthday, 3/17/2010, is next Wednesday.

Goodbyes, even simple ones, are uneasy for me and were for you too...and so how unimaginable is it to say goodbye to you, my most loved one. I didn't tell you on Jan 13th...I didn't say it at St. Francis. Because saying goodbye to you then, and now, means forever goodbye.

I tresaure your voice...tonite I can clearly hear you say "so long".

And from now until forever, I'll long for you.

Good Bye. I love you.

Died. Kieron died two wednesdays ago. He was just 48 years old...taken by some alien disease that touches nearly noone save an unlucky few.

To lessen the blow we use cliches about dying: "The agony is over...the suffering is gone...he's in a better place." Kieron agaonized over cliches. His better place was here...living, writing about here, experiencing here. Kieron was too young to die, and everyone knows it.

Life robbed Kieron. I looked at pictures of Kieron tonight and selfishly felt robbed of a precious life. Others and even I will reason out loud or think: what about the 42 years I was given of Kieron. But clarity prevails. He was too young.

Wednesday January 13th marks the day of forever mourning. For however rare Picks is the tragedy of a lost loved one is not. But the bite is no less, and tonite I curse the short stick he drew.

A celebration of life (another cliche)? Maybe...but tonite it's more of a scoff of life's cruelty.

JD Salinger died yesterday, two Wednesdays after Kieron. No irony except they were both writers who died on a Wednesday. Salinger was 91, published, world renown.

Kieron and I laughed together when we talked about Holden Caulfield.

I miss you Kieron, and I need you bro, our talks...I'm so sick and tired of not having you