I posted some old photos on Facebook the other night, including one of my brother, Brian. A lot of the friends I have on there were friends of his as well… or just friends of his that have kept in contact with me through the years.
I know I run the risk, when I post Brian’s photos, of someone that doesn’t know the story asking about him. There are some people I lost contact with that might not know he died and there are others that are going to be surprised to learn that I ever had a brother as they came into my life after his death. I’ve learned how to answer the questions about him over the past 17 years, but I still always feel a bit sorry for the other party in the conversation because I know they’re going to struggle to find the appropriate response to, “He died in 1991.”
However, I wasn’t prepared for a question from one of my best friends in high school asking what my brother was up to these days.
Okay, it was a long time ago and things can slip your mind. She’s a single mother to 4 children, including one special needs child – so I know she’s a little worse for the wear these days. And what was one of the defining moments of my life is likely to be little more than a blip on her radar, so I figured I’d cut her some slack. I thought that maybe a quick little email would trigger her memory.
No such luck.
When I wrote to her that Brian passed away, she responded that she was sorry to hear about it and how awful it was.
Seriously? Seriously?! She was at the funeral.
I haven’t responded to her because I just don’t know what to say now. In fact, I’m just kind of speechless. Some things are easily forgotten, but I wouldn’t have figured that attending the funeral of the brother of one of your closest friends would be one of them – no matter how much time had passed. It wasn’t like we were doing that kind of thing weekend after weekend in the 90′s after all.
???
