Insert Clever Blog Name Here

My sweet brother Joe.

Fair warning to my family members: There is this video and another linked to it as well. They WILL make you cry.

My brother Joe visited me last night in a dream. It was an unusual dream in that hubby was a waiter in a posh restaurant and we lived in a duplex with new neighbors. First I was with hubby at the job and said I hadn't been to the restaurant in ages and would he mind if I came in for dinner that night. He said no and I checked with the maitre d' and since it was Good Friday they didn't expect to be busy. So then I walked home (!!! I think this is because yesterday I did a looot of walking) with a friend of mine who is in my training class. We lived on seperate streets, so we split up and went our own way. I found myself in a neighborhood that looked a lot like Wilton Manors, Florida which is where I used to live. Only the Wilton Manors I lived in didn't have this humongous "college of lighting and special effects" in the neighborhood. Yeah, that was strange.

So anyway, I get "home" and the neighbors have about a dozen or so folding chairs on the shared porch. I remember thinking that the landlord is going to have a fit. Just as I'm about to open my front door, the neighbors open theirs and they are talking about how the landlord has already spoken to them about the chairs. (I'm not sure but this bit might have something to do with where we live now. We have new neighbors who have small children and their bikes and toys are scattered all over the shared breezeway and under the stairs.) They mention that she'll just have to get over it until after their dinner party and then they turn to me and say something like "or we'll just have to smite them with our mighty sword of +10 power" or something like that. I laugh and join in the banter by offering my "Level 15 Royal Elf" to assist. They laugh and invite me in and when I go, there is brother Joe sitting at their table eating pie and ice cream. I sit down next to him and we chat. He says something about how good the pie is and says he's doing fine. I tell him I miss him and wish I could see him more often. He just grins his goofy grin and goes back to eating his pie.

Then I woke up.

I think he came to visit because he knows he's been on my mind lately since his birthday is coming soon. What do you all think?

I hope he knows how very much he is missed.

A Tribute on your 45th Birthday.

My brother Joe would have been 45 years old today. I still miss him so much, I cannot tell you how large a chasm his passing has left in my life. I couldn't let this day go by without acknowledging my "big" little brother.

Behind the cut is a picture tribute along with the essay I wrote the night I found out about his death.

Happy Birthday, dear Brother



( Memories )

I will miss you forever.

Damn. Time does keep rolling on, no matter what happens. It was a year ago that my dear brother died. I wanted to acknowledge the day somehow...so this is what I wrote last year after I found out about Joe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The funny thing about phone calls...

Sometimes they are for wonderful reasons...someone getting married, having a baby...new house, new puppy (or kitten). Maybe it is a vacation you took you want to tell someone about, or the movie you saw last week. Maybe it is because your favorite baseball team won the championship and is going for the big one.

Or. Maybe not.

Maybe it's 1:00 in the morning.

1:00 in the morning is NEVER a good time to get a phone call.

Especially when it's your father. And he's telling you that your brother is dead. Now, instead of four, we are three. It used to be: Cathy, Joe, Beth and Jeff. Now it's just Cathy, Beth and Jeff.

I am in shock, I think. I freaked out a bit after hanging up with Dad...Gregory was here of course, and held me...then I called my mom...Dad had called her first...

She's in shock too. She knew more than I did. He was house sitting for his landlady while she was in the hospital or something. When she got home, the door was locked, she couldn't get in. She called my Dad, he said "Call the police". She did. They came and
broke in--and found him. Dad said he was sitting in the chair, and had been dead for at least a couple of days. (We found out later it was more like a week. One blessing, it was a peaceful death. He just went to sleep.)

My brother was a tortured soul. He had addiction problems...it won't surprise me to find out he died from an accidental (or on purpose, who knows?) overdose. He was such a big lug... he had a fantastic personality (when he was sober) and was a kind, loving person. He had so much love to give, and unfortunately, never found love in this lifetime. I
think the worst thing is knowing he died alone...except for his cat and the landlady's dog.

That's definately the worst thing. I wish he hadn't been alone.

But he had chosen to be alone for a lot of his adult life, isolating himself from everyone in the family...when he did come to events, he would come early and leave early...almost like he was trying to escape. We tried to help him...my dad even came down
to Ft. Lauderdale two years ago and moved him up to Ocala and in with him...

Joe had finally (everyone thought) gotten enough help so he could once again be on his own. He was in a trailer, had a car, a cat...but...he found more drugs.

I guess he needed the drugs more than he needed us.

I'm going to miss him so much. We had a joke...I was the oldest, but soon, he was the tallest. So I took to calling him my "big" brother. I can't believe this has happened...I knew it was going to happen.

I have to call my kids tomorrow. No sense waking them up tonight. My son will be devestated. I have to try to time it so his g/f is there when he finds out. My daughter will take it easier, she wasn't as close to Joe as Adam was. (I was wrong, Amanda cried.)

I hate talking about my brother in the past tense. But I will have to from now on, won't I?

I wish there was someone I felt comfortable calling at this time of night. But...those who don't know yet (due to answering machines with cryptic messages to call Dad right away) should be allowed to sleep the sleep of the innocent for one more day. Soon enough
to have tomorrow ruined.

Anyway, I'm just rambling now. Better sign off. I love every one of you people, probably more than you know, and definately more than I've ever said before.

I hope my brother has finally found the peace he couldn't get in life. I miss him already.

Albert Joseph "Joe" Brown III 1960-2003


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And I still miss him. Every day. There's a Joe-shaped hole in my heart. The family is gathering at my Dad's house next weekend to inter his ashes in a grave on my Dad's property...the place I think my brother was the happiest. I have to stop now because I'm going to cry.