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

This is your last year? No more thanksgivings, or christmases - selfishly, I hope they're wrong.

If I'm in your beautifully selfless shoes, I hope otherwise - that maybe this awful outlook should become...

You wouldn't want this...this pathetic form of "life", rather this non-life that who knows how has fallen upon you.

It's cowardice not going down there. But I can't look at it anymore. I'm not leaving you high and dry bro - you wouldn't want me or anyone to see you like this. You didn't know self-pity, ever, and you wouldn't ever want me or anyone else to pity you either. You'd spit at this.

So let this wretchedness go away.

Thanksgiving: hard to imagine what I give thanks to...but at this moment it's thanking you for being the brother who I love in every strecth that that word encompasses...

eff the nightmares...what I hope to dream about tonight is one of those times we shared that were utterly perfect. There's nothing I wouldn't give to have just an afternoon like the ones we shared.