How to mark your deceased brother's birthday.

On this day, 27 years ago, my mother gave birth to her first and only son.

I don't know what to say about that except that my parents are really good people.  They pay their taxes, they work hard, do the right thing, and they love their family and friends...  They didn't deserve to have to bury their only son.  Ever.  Much less before his 30th birthday.  Before he had the chance to get married, have kids, buy a house, or really live life and be happy.

Maybe this is a selfish thing to say, but I'm going to say it anyway.  I know depression isn't the kind of thing that can be understood unless you've experienced it yourself, but still, don't ever do this to your family, no matter how down you are.  Suicide leaves so many unanswered questions and bridges that can never be mended.  And the people who love you are never able to "move on."  They can move forward, but you're always going to be in this little compartment in their heart that weighs them down, no matter where they go.

So, anyway, keep me and my family in your thoughts today.  Mike should be turning 27 right now.  And I can barely organize any sort of coherent thought on the matter, which is why I'm not quite as verbose as I usually am.

Talk to you guys soon.  I'll be back shortly with the next installment of my London recap blogs.