Broken Promise to Myself

It surprises me, how much I cleave to the past. I’m not talking about history, but rather my past.

My brother’s 50th birthday, came and went and I promised myself, I wouldn’t allow it to grip me, leaving me sad and heartbroken. He died in 2010 and it still feels like the moment my Aunt Barbara called to tell me of his passing.

Furthermore, I promised myself, I wouldn’t write about it, knowing I’ve spent a lot of time going over Adam’s death, both on paper and in my head. I cannot hold out anymore, especially when I saw my sister, Deirdre’s Facebook post:

“Adam’s Birthday today, August 4, 1963. I sure do miss him. Of every person lost in my life, I have wanted to talk to him the most. Hey Adam, I plan to see in about 54 years. Time passes quickly and it will be like a wink of an eye.”

Yup, it’s exactly how I feel. But I’ll get there sooner than she will.

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