March 17, 1999 St. Patrick's Day
Three years ago was the last time I saw my brother. It was a Sunday and I had gone over to my mom's for a visit. We went every Sunday and it just so happened that Tim was there. He was being lazy and was still in the clothes he had wore to bed the night before, watching Beavis and Butthead and waiting to get a call from his fiancÚ'. I remember we joked and talked about all kinds of things, his upcoming wedding, work, and the rims he had just ordered for his car. They were coming that week and he was very excited about getting them. He talked about how a friend of his had given him a local telephone number to the KKK and we called it, laughing at their idiot remarks and how they mixed biblical principals to promote their racism. We also talked about his work and him going to college next fall. He worked in front of the Health Department selling hot dogs and drinks. Not the most glamorous job in the world but it paid the bills and it helped provide for his 14month old daughter, MsEm.
I think about the last time I ever saw him often. Was there something I could have said or done to change what happen to him? Was there something our family could have done, his girlfriend? Anything at all to prevent what happened on March 18, 1996. There is really no use trying to "what if" or try to change the past in your mind. He is gone. Its strange how a healthy, good looking young man can walk out the door to work and never come home. The last people to see him alive say how happy he was when he left work to go cash his check. He talked about getting his rims and how happy he would be to put them on his car and show them to his friends. They did arrive that afternoon. In fact they arrived right before my mom got the call that his car had been found, stripped and burned to the ground at a crack house. I will never forget my mother's call as I was about to walk out the door to go to the library telling me something had happened to Tim and his car. In that brief moment I knew he was gone. I wanted to have hope but I couldn't, it's like the truth was inside of me and I couldn't deny it.
Sometimes I wish we could really lie to ourselves.
Tonight I have pottery class. I will get to bring home the two pieces I have made
thus far and I have to admit I can't wait for Mr. Wonderful to see them. I'm going to take some photos of my work and put them up on the journal as soon as they are developed. This can give the few of you who come here a good laugh at my feeble attempts at pottery.
I also talked to V--- today. I called her at work on her lunch break. I was actually surprised she answered the phone. I asked if she was mad at me and she said no, that she had been busy. She acted cold and shallow, and a bit odd to say the least. I asked if she had been spending time with this guy she was seeing at Christmas who came in town on leave this past week and she firmly told me no. I think that is awful, because he really cares about her. She must be depressed or something, all I know is that she is acting strange and I hope she gets over it before she loses all the people who care about her. Tomorrow I'm going by and getting my stroller from her house. I could have just gone in and gotten it because I have a key and know the code for her alarm but I didn't want to piss her off. She said she'd write herself a note and leave it out for me. For some reason I don't think she is all that busy but just mopeing. I think she is also upset that I'm moving farther out then she would like, even though it is only going to take fifteen minutes to get from there to her house. Of course I'm only speculating.