Today found me engulfed in memories as I looked through some things that I brought home from my parent's home in New York last November.
I didn't plan to step back in time but as I went through things that were long over due for my attention, I found a folder of papers that my mother had kept that belonged to my brother, Mark.
Mark would be turning 51 this coming April 1st. I say would be because he is no longer living. Tragically he took his own life in June of 1993 at the age of 34.
Mark was a guy that was the life of any party. He made everyone around him laugh, and it seemed that everyone liked him. He had a charisma that charmed many. But all that personality and charisma didn't save him from conflict. He was no stranger to strife -- strife that he brought on himself with his choices. He was in and out of jail for many years before the tragic ending of his life.
So today as I thumbed through a folder of memories, I found among the faded and aged papers something that I had written years ago and sent to Mark during a time that he was once again incarcerated for yet another bad choice.
The dolls and dress up clothes are all put away now
And I am too old to play "Army" and hide and go seek
But I'm not too old to re-live the childhood happiness in my days of make believe
Nor am I too old to find pleasure again in falling leaves and "puff balls" hiding in the grass waiting to be discovered by laughing eyes
Nor am I too old to stand in the brisk evening air looking back to the past with wet cheeks and a saddened heart because those days are gone
Nor am I too old to smile through those tears and sadness to thank my brothers for allowing me to be a part of them as we journeyed through those childhood years and for cherished memories created on Autumn days
Thank you for the happy times.
I love you,
(Yes, that's me. I was always called Lori by my family members and still am by some of them.)
I will tuck the folder of delicate memories away once again and go on being a grown up again but feeling a whisper of longing to experience over again a few of those autumn days.