Father’s Day Will Never Be the Same
As Memorial Day approaches, there will be a little American flag flying next to my brother Mike’s grave. I saw his headstone this past week, for the first time. I tried not to cry that day because DD#1 was already nervous about being in a cemetary (and she wouldn’t even get out of the car), but over the years, the tears have come easily when I think of him and all that he meant to me.
Mike died on Father’s Day in 1997. Mike was never a father, but he died of the same type of brain aneurysm that our own dad died of.
And this part below, it’s the most special part, to me, on Mike’s headstone:
Because he was a loving husband and brother – and his sister’s best friend. And I still miss him terribly, every single day.
Oh, Tammy …. knowing you, you, too were a brother’s best friend. I know he is watching over you and laughing at / with you, too!