Too long, too late

It has been almost three years since I left California, and I sure wish I had gotten back there to visit sooner.

My brother Drew was sick in the hospital the week my mom would have turned 86, and half an hour before I got on my flight from Wilmington to Sacramento to go visit him, he died. I wish I'd been there with him, to hold his hand.

I have very few real memories of my childhood, but the ones I do have often involve Drew. We were the closest in age. He was only 55. Drew introduced me to some of the things that have remained part of my life since, like The Beatles, The Stones, "The Hobbit" and Star Trek. When I went to see the new movie last week, I kept thinking I couldn't wait to call him and talk about it.

As I was working on my room this weekend, I put up a framed picture of him next to ones of my parents, and realized I have a little shrine to my dead relatives there. Which is OK, I think. I'll light a candle for them and hope they are all together now, taking care of each other.