Happy Birthday, Mitch.

Dakota, ME, Mitch

Dakota, ME, Mitch

When you were little you followed me around in your footy pajamas. You cried when I left, heaving and shrieking like a crazy baby. You were an adorable hot mess with your blonde ringlets and huge eyes like two pools of water. I used to tell you that you were adopted because we look so different and you’d run and cry to mom. I was happy when you grew up and stopped being so gullible.

Remember when we used to hide under mom’s nightgown together on the weekends while she would cook. Her flannel our fort, her legs the beams that you’d cling to for support. When you developed asthma you’d wake up choking, your face like a blueberry, and mom and I together would force your lungs to open with medicated steam and a bottle full of coffee. You grew up to love coffee which was super annoying because you were ALWAYS HYPER. Remember the time you thought it was a genius idea to lick the ice on the back of the fridge? You were stuck there for thirty minutes and when mom finally got your tongue unstuck you didn’t have tastebuds for weeks. I remember Daycare and kicking the manager because I heard you crying on the other side but they wouldn’t let me check on you. “We’ll take care of him, you’re just a kid, you stay here.” And BAM! GIVE ME MY BROTHER!

Then I became a teenager and turned into a huge asshole and we drifted apart. I was mean and thought you were uncool because you were five years younger than me. Teenagers are so stupid. Then you turned into a teenager and you were an asshole. The age difference really created a long time of us being jerks. Though, I have to say that deep down you were always a good person but too sensitive and too fragile to do well with others. I wish you had a tougher skin or that the world wasn’t so cruel.

We all think about you every day and loved you so much though I’m not sure anyone in our family is good at showing it. I miss you and water fights, and playing air guitar in the living room to “Livin’ In America” by The Sounds, and playing video games with you.

If I’m wrong and there is life after death, I hope this birthday is the best one yet. Love you.

-Your big sister

For you.

One thought on “Happy Birthday, Mitch.

  1. I just wanted to let you know that I understand what losing him did to you. I lost my beautiful, brilliant, witty ,hilarious little brother Michael almost three years ago. The guilt ,rage and sadness has almost killed me .We recently settled with the sheriff s dept. but that has done nothing to ease my constant heartache ,grief ,and absolute guilt I feel over not doing more to save the one I loved the most, and who loved me the most. I see my brother when I sleep. He puts his forehead against mine and whispers «Whatcha doin sister?» (phone is set to Spanish ,and I no longer have quotation marks) and then I wake to tears on my face and pillow.I miss him so much that I cannot breathe at times. …and I am so very sorry that you lost your beautiful little brother ,too.Much love

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