19

Saturday came and went.
The rain fell. I walked the streets of Glasgow, sipped on a Starbucks Gingerbread latte, and thought about my brother James, a lot.

It would have been his 19th birthday that day.

It seems like a cliche but I really can't believe three years have passed with him no longer on this earth. When he died, I thought time would have to stop to just absorb the loss, but as anyone who has walked the path of grief knows, time continues to pass, whether you think it fair or not.

There is this forever space in my life. It's so strange now to meet new people and they have no idea the space is there. They have no reference to tell them what once filled the space apart from the things I can tell them. I still don't know how to answer the question "So, do you have any brothers or sisters?" The pain is not so sharp but the answer still seems forced and never complete.

I woke up Saturday just more aware of that space than I have been other days. The day passed. People, mostly strangers, interacted with me without knowing, and life moved on. The day was relatively quiet. No expectations. No cake. No phone calls home to say "Happy Birthday little bro!" Just rain, memories and a few tears. Another anniversary come and gone.