Happy Birthday, Brother!

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Made a decision a few years back. I don’t acknowledge the anniversary of the death of a loved one.

But man, I’m willing to celebrate their birthday!

Today would’ve been Jeff’s 50th. It’s hard to believe because he was cheated out of so much time, but on Saturday I golfed with three guys who loved Jeff so much.

We laughed hard swapping stories.

“So, I’m sitting in a bar, nursing a beer, talking quietly with the bartender when I see the bouncer looking at me kinda’ weird. He makes a beeline for me and smacks me squarely in the chest. “Get your brother and get the hell out of here,” he says.

“What’s he doing?” I asked.

“Aggravating people,” the raging bartender said. “People are trying to talk and have a good time and he keeps doing a fake laugh.

 “Ha, aha, ha, aha. It’s driving me crazy.”

“That sounds about right,” I said.

I headed to the back room where Jeff was shooting pool. I heard his voice above the chatter.

“Ha, aha, ha, aha.”

I laughed.

“It ain’t funny,” the bouncer said. “Let him go entertain everyone at another bar.”

We left.

We were walking down the street, laughing about it. 

A walking celebration.

“Nothing wrong with having fun,” I said. “Just don’t push people over the edge.”

“He tossed me for laughing funny,” he said. “Does that sound like it’s my problem?”

He had a point.

On his birthday, I think about that laughter. He brought a lifetime of it.

I missed out on a whole lot more.

“Ha, aha, ha, aha.”

Anyone who ever heard him do it is probably laughing now.

Raise a glass.

In celebration.

He’d love that.

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