I have a lot on my mid this morning....early this morning.
Yesterday was my brother, Ricky's birthday. He has been gone now for 1 1/2 years, dying from Kidney Cancer in the ugliest way. He was peaceful at his death. We were not close by any means but, I helped end his life at the end. I don't miss him because we were not close.
I think about him occasionally because his cancer death and my Mom's breast cancer at the same time......was awful! The most stressful I have ever been in my life.
This combination with the past finally deciding it wanted to come out and pay with my mind, the perversion attempts by my Step-Dad, the lack of boundary lines and the lack of any concern on my Mom & family's part has caused a permanent separation from my family of origin and my family of present.
Anyway.....that was on my mind. Ricky would have been 47 years old. And he didn't like being called Ricky....but Rick. I will always remember him as Ricky. The little shit that tortured me when we were kids. He left living with us when he and I were 10 & 11. He went to go live with my Dad.
He had a really rotten life...dealing with my Dads alcoholism, his whorish wives, and the lack of any caring from anyone.
He ended up in prison, a drug addict & alcoholic.
At the end...he was clean....maybe. Hadn't done time in a while. And Mary loved him. And Mary's kids loved him too.
He left a daughter, Miranda. I worry about her.