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August 18, 2005

For Bruce

August 18, 2005

Today would have been Bruce’s 42nd Birthday, if he were alive. I have often wondered in the intervening years since his death, whether or not he would approve of me or even be proud of me. I like to think so. He was barely a man when he died, but old enough to have hinted at the man he would have become. He liked to work with his hands; they were large and strong like our grandfathers hands. They appeared to be sculpted from a hard tan stone. His passion was a 67 Chevrolet Super Sport that he kept in the barn, he worked on it constantly it seemed. I always remember him working on it, shirtless, wavy brown hair, blue jeans. His dream was for this machine to one day be restored and prowl the roads in true muscle car fashion. It didn't happen.

The tradition that I began the year he died was to have a beer with him on his birthday. I’d bring a beer for each of us to the cemetery and sit by his graveside; I’d drink one and pour the other into his grave. Being in Iraq prevents me from following through on the tradition this year. Luckily my Mom has agreed to stand in for me this year.

I’m in Ramadi, Iraq paying tribute to my brother Bruce. It is likely that in a distant junk yard sits the rusty, weed choked, skeleton of the '67 Chevy SS in mute tribute to a dream not realized. As I write this the shockwaves from 120 & 155 millimeter artillery rattles my windows reminding me that we are at war. Dreams are being destroyed all around, perhaps some new ones are being born, I just don’t know.

What I do know is that I have to get home to Sarah and realize some dreams for the both of us. Wherever you are Bruce, I raise my non-alcoholic beer in tribute to you, brother.

Posted by sarahb at August 18, 2005 2:05 PM

Comments

Posted by: Steven MacCaffrie at August 19, 2005 11:01 AM

Posted by: rod at April 5, 2007 12:52 AM