I miss my brother

I just got home from celebrating my brother’s 36th birthday, coincidently, also the 3 year anniversary of his death.

My brother died 3 years ago on his birthday. Yes, it was unexpected. You don’t expect to go to your big brother’s 33rd birthday, look for him for four hours and then find him in a morgue.

Anyway. I miss him a lot. A bunch of his friends told some interesting stories of him tonight and I’m glad I heard them. When he was still here, he would often tell me stories of when he was younger and the shit he got up to.

My brother was very much into music, especially guitar. He played since the age of 13. And he was good. I’m not just saying it because he was my brother, you can ask anyone, he was really good. I remember when I was young I was never allowed to touch his guitar, it was like a holy piece of equipment. So, when I was alone and no one was watching, I would sneak up to it and softly strum it with my index finger.

As I got older a big part of our relationship revolved around music. I would sit in his room for hours, smoke his Camel Filter cigarettes, talk about his travels and listen to him as he tried to teach me what good music was. He tried his best to teach me how to play Redemption Song, but piano was more my thing back then. People still don’t get that there are some songs that I just can’t listen too.

Now his guitar is just sitting in our living room, like it’s just waiting for him to come out and play the shit out if it. We wish you would.

A fond memory I have of my brother is from when I was very young. We didn’t get along very well back then, we fought a lot (well, we did have an 11 year gap between us). I was also quite the little pain in the ass so I can just imagine what it must have been like to have me as a baby sister. So this one morning (when I was about 4) I wake up and my parents are not home. I start freaking out. Screaming and crying and just totally going into a frenzy. I clearly remember thinking that they had abandoned me (take note: they only went to the shop). I thought I was totally alone in the world. Then from nowhere, my brother starts calling me. I was surprised he was home and that, in fact, I was allowed into his room, which I never was. I can’t remember the words spoken that day, but what I do remember is him telling me that I can lie next to him but I must keep absolutely quite and I mustn’t move unnecessarily. I have a photo to prove this incident, because when my parents got home and saw this they could not believe their eyes. In the picture we are both smiling and we are lying in bed next to each together in the exact same position. This to me, was an amazing incident. It proved that he loved me. And he always did.

One of your life long friends made an interesting comment tonight: it’s not that we have forgotten you, it’s just that the pain of remembering has gotten easier to bear.

To end off, I will quote the words from the song we played at your funeral, Metallica’s “Fade to Black” (you weren’t depressed or anything, you just really liked Metallica and apparently you had a thing going with your friends – that if you died young this would be the song that played):

Yesterday seems as though it never existed

Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye



Your head stone


Your favourite thing in the world

I am aware that this post is pretty incoherent and the paragraphs have no relation to each other, but tonight I don’t really care much. We miss you.


February 22, 2012. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , . Music, Sad. 3 comments.