Memories are Funny Things.

I find it funny, the things that I remember, and the things I forget.
It doesn't really make sense.

Yes, there are the little things.
Forgetting where I put my keys.
Forgetting that I scheduled a doctors appointment three weeks ago for this morning.
Forgetting to pick up a gallon of milk on my way home.
Forgetting to get something out of the freezer for dinner that night.
The little things.

But there are big things that , over time I have forgotten.
I don't remember the first time I drove a car.
I don't remember the first time I kissed a boy.
I don't remember the first time I flew in an airplane.
I don't remember the details of my first broken heart.
I don't remember what my father said to me the night he moved out of our house.
I don't remember the last words spoken to my father many years later.
I don't remember the name of my best friend in elementary school.

But there are many seemingly insignificant little details that are stuck in my mind as if it happened yesterday.

Things from 23 years ago today.

I remember my big brother, Dan, leaving for his nightly walk and saying. "I'll be back later" then popping his head back in the door and jokingly saying..."Or.. maybe I won't.".

I remember the exact words I used when I called my friend Tara, "I don't know if you pray or not, but if you do, please pray for Dan. He was just hit by a car."

I remember the blue maternity dress covered with little yellow & pink flowers that my youth pastors wife, Ms. Renee, wore when she came to stay with me at my house.

I remember that it was exactly 2:08am when my grandmother finally called with an update from the hospital.

I remember the cassette tape that was still in his Walkman and the exact words my mother said to me when I excitedly told her that it was not that broken because the radio still worked. She said... "But Honey, Dan is."

I remember the burgundy sweater that I was wearing when my mother and grandparents returned from the hospital to tell me that Dan was gone.

I remember the first casserole that Mrs. Kearney brought over... it was chicken and noodles with carrots that were too big and too mushy.

I remember the beautiful scent of the three perfect purple Hyacinths that my school sent to me when they heard the news.

I remember the overpowering cologne that the man from the funeral home wore.

I remember sitting in his room and realizing that it smelled like him.

I remember the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw my grandfather cry for the first time in my life.

I remember the laughter though the tears when we remembered that he was buried wearing his new watch, and that it would beep every day for the next 12 years at noon and may freak some unsuspecting cemetery maintenance man out.

I remember how blue his eyes were.

I remember thinking he was the strongest and smartest big brother in the world.

I remember his mischievous grin and the twinkle in his eye.

I remember our long walks, car rides, and conversations.


There are still BIG things I do NOT remember.

I can Not remember his voice.

I can not remember the last words spoken between us.

I can not remember the last comforting hug.

I can not remember the last "I love you."

I can not remember our last fight.

I can not remember the last cross words.

Isn't it funny? The things that "stick" and the things that don't?

23 years ago my life changed forever.

I am lucky that I was raised with such a great big brother.
But my heart aches every day because my children will never know what a wonderful man they would have had for an uncle.

It's just so strange how so many details of that time are crystal clear and how so many of them seem just out of my reach.

The mind is a very funny thing.

I remember...