Sometimes there is a certain smell in the air, or it could be the way the sunlight hits my face that can bring me back to the day that I was told the news about my brother, Ken.
I was in the UK visiting my sister and friends. A Volcano in Iceland had erupted. It was pure bliss. We must have had 5 pints before noon, celebrating my extended vacation. My sister ran to me, grabbed my hand and said, "Kenny is dead." It was a shock. I fell in her arms on the narrow sidewalk in total disbelief.
I think of him on these days, when the sun is shining a certain way and there is a brisk coldness in the air. He creeps into my dreams and daily life. I miss him.
I apologize for not expanding. I am new to this blogging thing.
