When my brother, a year younger than I, was a young child he used to collect an assortment of bugs in various containers and in his pockets. I tried to empty his pockets before our mom would do the laundry. His collections evolved through the years to glass, rocks and shells we would find along all the Long Island beaches we would frequent together. Later he would collect coins, stamps, and flower and plant seeds for growing. As an adult, collecting baseball cards, books of literature and comic books became his passion.

My brother, Johnny, a gentle and kind soul, died of Covid early in the Pandemic. He was my only sibling. It took me almost 2 1/2 years to be brave enough to go through all his collections. What do I sell and what do I keep? Why am I doing this? Where did Johnny go? Why is he not here? Johnny would want me to find the purpose and the meaning in these questions.

Let me tell you about the day that changed my world.
I went to play volleyball at the Community Center.
While I was on the court practicing, coming through a window enters this young man.
Handsome devil — flat top haircut, “blonde”, t-shirt, jeans, and desert boots.
My first thought was — boy you think you’re something!
He was.
We were married soon after.
For 57 years, 2 months, 24 days.

Mike was always in charge of planting flowers in our garden.

When I think back, I used to yell at him for spending so much money on flowers. Friends and neighbors used to say “I saw Mike today at the nursery” when he’d promised he wasn’t buying any more. Today I took my granddaughter to Longwood Gardens in Pennsylvania to look at all the flowers and I explained that Grandpa Mike always took care of the garden.

I wish Mike could have been with us today.

This was a saying my dad would end every email, every phone call and hug goodbye.
My dad was a gentle, quiet man. Who loved his family. I miss him so much.

Sometimes I feel like I am drowning. Sometimes I feel like I sabotage my mental health. Donovan, saying I miss you is not enough. Never enough. I have a Donovan size hole in my soul, heart & mind. I listen to the recordings I have of your voice and break into a million pieces all over again. I look at the pictures I have in my phone — letting them play as a video. Scream and cry and sob. This is still so unbelievable to me babyboy. This can’t be.

I am forever in love with you. I LOVE YOU.

(I know how you would feel about these posts. I guess this is one way to get it out to the universe that I am not ok with this. I am not ok.)

I love you Donovan-
Mom xoxox