Today, September 2, 2020, would be my brother Henry’s 73rd birthday.
It was about two and a half months after his 70th birthday that he called me and said that something strange had happened. That was the observation in an ultrasound of spots on his liver, and his doctor’s implication that it foretold a distressing diagnosis. Eventually we learned that the diagnosis was pancreatic cancer, and it had spread to his liver and other organs.
The doctor guessed that Henry had about a good year to live. He died 216 days after his 70th birthday.
Henry will never be older than 70, and I am catching up to him. I will pass him in December, and then I will no longer have an older brother.
Your remembrances of Henry bring tears to my eyes. Your love for him transcends time and the cells of our bodies. A shout out to the universe to Henry on his birthday.
Robin — I still haven’t internalized Henry’s death. It seems like I can feel his presence up in Chattanooga, going about his business