May is always a tough month for my family. We have my little brothers birthday and Memorial day. This year we also had the dedication of a the physician assistant classroom in his name. A great honor, but it is still hard.

Today he would have been 38 years old. I miss being able to celebrate it with him. This morning I ran out and picked up donuts so that mom and I could celebrate him. Something that he would enjoy but not a birthday cake. It may seem odd, but I do something like this every year on his birthday and the day that he died. I celebrate him. I kind of insist on it.

What I find odd is that this is the first year I actually recognize that Memorial day and his birthday have always been so close to each other. They are every year. I wonder why I never noticed that before. This year it is just so obvious I guess. Or it is because the grief is settling some.

It is weird but I usually dream of him around different important dates. Last night was no exception. I dreamt that he wasn’t dead, but still serving in the army and we just found out. I was able to speak to him on the phone and he made a point of telling me that he was proud of my book. He clearly stated that he keeps watch over all of us even from where he is. Then in the dream he died again, but they couldn’t tell us because we thought he already was. Only I knew and carried it.

At least this time he didn’t show up in a lovely pair of knee-high lace up high heel brown boots that I wanted from Nordstrom!

I miss him. I always will. Sometimes I just wish May wasn’t a hard month and didn’t signify the start of the summer of memorials. Mostly I wish he was still here.