Tomorrow My Little Brother Would Have Been Turning Fifty Four Years Old.

My Brother's Fifty Fourth Birthday Would Have Been Tomorrow

He has been gone since 1983.

I have been thinking of my little brother a lot as I have been writing another post on this blog, the one entitled, Our Lady's Assumption, September 15, 1965.

My little brother was only three years old when my son --- his uncle --- was born.

When my son was born, at Mercy Hospital (where Father Bosco was chaplain), my mom came to visit, and she brought Bobby with her. She told him to wait right outside the room, and not to come in, but also not to go anywhere, either, or talk or do anything.

A big job for a little guy of three years old!!

I was so glad to hear my mom's voice out in the hallway. I think perhaps she was afraid that she or Bobby would get in trouble and yelled at, or perhaps they were breaking a rule?

Perhaps they were, but I was so glad to see them anyway. My mom had "stationed" him right next to the door to my room. He was kind of flattened against the wall of the hallway, but right next to the room, in deference to her instructions, but he wanted to know what was going on. I looked to where I heard my mom's voice, and wondered where Bobby was.

He was peeking inside the room, with only his little shoulders inside, but the rest of himself still out in the hall. It was very adorable.

Of course I wanted to explain more to him. I usually did explain things to him. I was glad to do so. I felt sad that I could not explain anything to him on this day.

What would I tell him? What could I say? I did not even know what was going on myself.

Fifteen years later, in 1980, I told him about his nephew, who had been born when Bobby was three years old.

Bobby had this weird, silly and funny thing he used to do.

He would put his fists up in the air, using the "Popeye stance." It was also a little bit like Godzilla. He would pretend to growl. He would say, "Wot? Wot?? Then he would repeat and reiterate the gist of whatever the other party had said to him.

In this case (1980), the other party was me, and I had told him, during a session of "Mary Jane", about his nephew born in 1965.

He put his fists up in the Popeye stance, and in a mock-threatening voice, said, "Wot? Wot? You mean I have a fifteen year-old half-breed nephew?"

After that, we never discussed the topic again. There wasn't anything to be discussed. I did not know anything. Sadly, I did find out a little more in 1992, but I wish I had not.