Another Birthday

40 years ago today, Yael and I got the wonderful gift of a baby brother. And our little worlds changed forever and for the better.

Our beautiful Amir would have, SHOULD have, turned 40 today. The mere thought of him not reaching 40 makes my heart physically hurt. It aches. He should be here, we should be celebrating with him, he should be following Yael and I into a new decade, with all of its ups and downs. He should have reached middle age. Hell, he should have lived to be an old man, still pondering the meaning of everything, reading every book in sight, making us laugh and offering sarcastic, witty pearls of wisdom only Amir could have offered.

Summer 2005

I remain utterly heartbroken that he's not here, that we've been deprived of his gentle presence in this world. I'm angry that he was cheated out of so many years. I miss him so much that I want to scream to the heavens to reverse history and bring him back. I revisit history in my mind every day and night, thinking about his 38 years on Earth, what they meant to everyone who loved him and how important that time was to me--the time I had a brother who was also a playmate, a sounding board, an encyclopedia, a books-and-music recommender and, most importantly, a trusted friend and confidant and amateur psychoanalyst.

Today, I am pondering and longing for Amir at 40--who he might have been, where he'd have been in his life and who he'd have been working toward becoming. I will do my best to celebrate and honor him today, as I do in smaller ways each day. I encourage all of you to celebrate him in your own way today.

Amir, I wish I could tell you how much we love you and miss you, today and every day.