The irony is not lost on me. The fact that I can't remember the last
time my oldest brother Terry called me by name.
Why would I make note of such a thing? He had called me
"Billy", "Bill" or "Bubba" my entire life.
Until he didn't.
Because he couldn't.
He doesn't remember.
Today's visit was pretty tough.
I scrolled through photos on my phone.
He recognized a couple faces. Our Dad. Our dog Missy from
forty years ago.
No, he didn't call me by name. But on this first day of August, 2014
he called me "brother"....
I won't forget.