At this time of the year, I think of all the precious moments spent with my brother Johnny who was one year younger than me. We would frequently rake leaves together and enjoy jumping into the huge piles, hiding in them too. So many kids in our Long Island, New York neighborhood would join us. We had a blast! Our dad would burn the leaves as was common practice back then. The fires were mesmerizing and the smell permeated the block.

Our parents — and grandmother who lived with us –- would join us, carving pumpkins while we had apple cider, donuts, and hot chocolate. Then Johnny and I would ride our bikes together and enjoy the brilliant colors of the trees and the glorious fresh, crisp autumn air. The landscape burst into magnificent shades of yellow and gold, red and burgundy, orange and rust. Johnny and I would climb neighborhood apple trees and bring home a basket of apples.

All these memories are so very vivid. My brother was there from the beginning and we had so many shared experiences. When I lost Johnny I lost an irreplaceable connection to my childhood.

I alone am now the keeper of these memories.