IN TRIBUTE TO MY LITTLE BROTHER

      Today I have my little brother, Randy, on my mind... and in my heart. He died of AIDS in September, 1994, and those of us who loved him will never forget him. He was bright, witty, and engaging. He was talented and competitive, but innocent and vulnerable at the same time. He died not long before they developed the "cocktail" that would've saved his life. He died before his boys grew into the men they are today... and he died without knowing the full joy of being a grandfather. If he had lived- if they would've had a cure- if he had been more cautious-there's no telling where his career would've gone. If he would've lived, I am sure that he would've won a thousand more board games... and shared thousands of more laughs. He would've also shared our grief when Larry died; and he would've both given and received more than his share of love. He would've brightened our days if he had lived...but he didn't... because he died of AIDS... in Anniston, Alabama ... way back in 1994. Twenty five years have come and gone, and it is time to write him a brief love note.
      Dear Randy, it has been 25 years since I've seen your face... but I will never forget it!  I remember how you would run into my bedroom when the storms inside and outside of our home frightened you, and I remember how small you were when you were a kid. I remember the time when mom and dad left you in a gas station in South Dakota... and Larry and I didn't bother to tell them (although they noticed you were missing 30 miles or so down the road)! I remember how proud you were of the store that you and Larry owned together, and I remember how close you were to Larry and his family. I remember the taco eating contests that you won, and all of us will always remember our vacation trip to the Grand Canyon. I remember the day when you nearly beat me in our marathon tennis match... and I will never forget how routinely you beat me at everything else. I will never forget how you compensated for the big slice you had off of the tee, and I will remember the day when you agreed to put your life back together... like it was yesterday. With delight, I recall the way that you and Linda played cribbage and all sort of games...and I remember the beautiful home that you and John had when you died. I remember the day when you and Larry and I went to the driving range in Plano. I will never forget how faithful your sons were when you were suffering... and I remember how Aaron and I played tennis to get your impending death off of our minds. With gratitude, I remember the wonderful care that hospice gave you... and I will never forget the "bulb garden" that you bought for Sherry and me. As you planned, it arrived after your death... and I'm sorry that I planted several of the bulbs upside down. 
      I remember when you told me that you were not afraid to die... and I remember the faith you expressed as we walked around our sanctuary in Joliet. When Larry was dying, I asked him if he thought he would see you in heaven, and he said that, while he didn't know about "seeing you," he did think that he would recognize you. I pray this is true, and I want you to know, Randy, that my life has not been as full since you've been gone. I write this blog, and I opine on any number of topics. They are all very real to me. The joys and the sorrows of life- I've come to embrace them both- and I want you to know that losing Larry created a deep void in my life. He was my best friend and I was always so very proud of him... but I am sure that he would agree- you were our little brother! You were "the R," and we loved you with all of our hearts. Those of us who were left behind... still do.  Ken,