In memory of Seann

Two photographs hang in our kitchen, side by side. In them are the images of my brother-in-law, Seann, taken during the weeks before his untimely death, one year ago. Not a day goes by that I don’t pass by those photos and think, “I miss you, brother.” That thought is screaming to me today, the anniversary of his passing.

Anniversary is an inappropriate word choice; I associate it with celebratio

n. There will be no celebrating today, no hoisting of pints and shouting good cheers in his name. Oh, the drinks will be poured and stories will be shared, but they will all be done with tears in our eyes and heavy hearts.

When the night finally ends and I find myself on the precipice of sleeping, I know that one thought will occupy my mind as it drifts off into my subconscious.

“I miss you, brother.”