Yesterday was also the birthday of my older brother. He would have been 69 if he hadn't died at 22. I wondered if he would have had gray hair or gone bald, how many barbecues we have missed at his house and how many children he would have had. What would his wife have been like? In this Year of The Big Losses nostalgia is creeping in, and I find myself aching for I know not what.
Tonight, however, there will be a dinner with "Uncle Vinny", an old friend (in both senses) and a joy. He has driven to Boston from Ohio again (at age 82) and loves to see my kids, especially the one I named after him. But first there's a funeral to attend on this gray day, and like it or not, it's time to face (and make) the music.