My Brother

I last saw him at our oldest sister's funeral. Why did death bring us together that dark day? Why did life show the last of his face to me that day? Why, oh death, were you so secretive, leaving me clueless? Had we known this would be our last, we'd have had more to say I tell you, we were worlds apart, different in so many ways We fought as kids, talked like men, and lived as brothers Blood brothers, and 19 months separated our ages I must confess that he was often misunderstood, because he seldom did the things he should Comfortable inside his own skin, he had nothing to hide and went out of his way to applaud the success of others But he certainly danced by the beats of the music he made I never knew if he had a confidant, a hero, anyone he admired I think that he never heard the drummer of anybody's band, but he was always there for me to give a helping hand He laughed at his own jokes. He was genuine, the real mcCoy He was entrepreneurial and creative. I miss his honesty and graciousness. He lived too fast and died too young I thought we would grow old together, but at 55 and 2000 miles away, he breathed his last and died Would to God my dear brother was still alive 121112Soup, Strand Special 5, B Strand, HM