Happy Birthday to Jeff

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It happens every single day.

A spoken word, a song, a baseball trivia question, or just a deep, gnawing ache...

...it calls to mind my brother, Jeff.

I still can’t believe he isn’t here because it feels like he is.

But damn, some of the light went out.

Today is his birthday.

A whole bunch of us are going to play golf.

I’m sure that I will hear the:

“Oh, that’s a shame,” about a half dozen times when someone misses a putt.

The stories will be flying around.

I’ll probably cry laughing somewhere along the way...

...and the fact that the golf tourney lands on his birthday is outstanding because it’s the type of event he would have loved.

There’s so much I miss...

...and I hold it, but don’t let it tear me apart...

...yet what I miss the most was how he kept us all together.

“I got an idea,” he’d say, and next thing I’d know, there would be about ten of us together...

...eating, drinking and laughing.

Happy Birthday, Brother.

I know you feel it...

...somehow.

The love is so strong.

Here’s a shot for you.

Knock a putt or two in for me, huh?

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