Today would have been my brother Mike’s 49th birthday.  I’m sure I would have made a very big deal out of it.  Black balloons.  A black frosted cake.  Black candles.  I would have gone all out to show him that he was fixin’ to cross the line into old age – as next year, he would have been the big 5-0.

I never got the chance to do that.  I lost him, as did his wife, his other family, his other brothers, and a host of friends who loved him.  He died of a brain aneurysm at the age of 34.  DOA.  My world, and those who loved him, changed forever.

But, aside from his wife – I daresay, I loved him more than life itself.  He became my best friend forever in a few short years.  My brother, in every sense of the word.  He was my world – he and his wife, and eventually my boyfriend’s (and now husband) and first daughter’s.  I would have done anything for him, and he for me.  We were two peas in a pod.  Torn apart by family and circumstances, but reunited by love and our desire to create a relationship that no one was a part of aside from his wife.  My sister-in-law Trickie was the only one who truly knew the depth of my relationship with Mike.  And I know I will never, ever have a brother that can give as much as Mike gave of his heart to me, and graciously accept as much as I accepted so unconditionally.

I recall one weekend when we decided we would head from their home in New Franklin, Missouri and travel to Branson, Missouri.  I worked at a honky tonk and usually finished up my work around 2 am.  We decided I’d drive over to pick them up after I got off work and we would burn the midnight oil and drive to a campground, pitch a tent, sleep a few hours, then hit Silver Dollar City and all the hot spots of tourist fun for a couple of days.  I had been practicing with a stick-shift so I could drive his truck, and since I was usually wide awake after work, he would sleep and his wife would keep me company.  Seemed like a good plan to us at the time.

What he failed to teach me in my driving lessons was that you were supposed to push the clutch in every single time you shifted gears.  Who knew???  He was sound asleep in the back seat of his truck and Trickie and I were chatting along.  We were on the highway between Sedalia, Missouri and Branson – which if you’ve ever drove that road, is just one long hill after another.  I knew to shift to a lower gear going down the hill and a higher gear going up the hill.  I had this one in the bag.

Until I started grinding the gears and he sat straight up out of the back seat and wondered what in the heck I was doing to his truck!

I had no clue, so I recreated my steps and explained what I was doing.  Then I felt like a total idiot because he was laughing so hard, he couldn’t tell me what I was doing wrong.  I’m sure I used words that would singe the hair on a man’s chest – but, when he finally calmed down (probably during the next grinding of the gears), he explained the CORRECT process of how to downshift to me.   OHHHHHH, TWO feet needed to be in play at the same time – clutch and accelerator!  Gee, why didn’t he give me those words of wisdom while he was giving me lessons???

I never did live that faux paus down – but, he didn’t allow me to drive his truck again, either <grin>.

I don’t care how many people want to claim him as their best friend, their brother, their son or their guardian angel since his passing.  His widow and I know the truth – and that is that Mike and I had something special, and he will forever be my best friend forever brother.  We were meant to find each other in our adulthood – and I truly believe God allowed us to be together to help show us what unconditional love truly meant, and that despite all the obstacles in our way, love is the only thing that matters in our messed up world.

Happy heavenly birthday brother.  I just wish the next time I have a hankering to call you, that you’d just pick that darned phone up and let me hear your voice one last time.