Remembering…

Charlie 1

So to be completely brutally honest with you guys, I am having a really crappy day. I lost my younger brother a year and a half ago, and today is his birthday. He would have been 27. The anniversary of his death of course is sad, but his birthday? It’s a million times worse. It’s a reminder of all things he is missing, all of the things he never got to see. I feel this deep gnawing impotent rage, that mocks me with how unfair life can be and how, now matter how hard we try, a lot of it is out of our hands. Last year was bad, but for some reason this year has been a lot worse. Instead of focusing on the anger though, I wanted to share some of my favorite Charlie moment’s with you guys.

  • The time that he decided to pan handle his way across the US so he could move from Florida to Las Vegas.
  • The time he convinced my mom that he was only drinking orange juice and the alcohol she was smelling was coming from my aunt’s rum balls (which have absolutely no alcohol in them).
  • The time he took a picture with his friends cat, then got really excited when I told him it made him look like an evil genius. Evidently, that was the exact look he was going for.
  • The time I convinced him to try a hair lightener I’d been considering, and his hair turned bright orange. I decided not to use it after all.
  • The time he was trying to tell me about a song he had heard, and he described it as “the one about the one armed bird.” After I stopped laughing I told him it was the “white winged dove.”
  • The time he explained how easy it was to steal fried chicken from Publix.
  • The time Andy and I spent the night at his apartment, and he made a super meaty manly breakfast for he and Andy and a special vegetarian breakfast for me complete with what he called “fancy fruit salad.”
  • The time I told some of my college drinking stories, and he had to pick his jaw up off the floor because he couldn’t believe that I had actually done anything like that.

I know some of these things like drinking in the car and shoplifting might seem like things I shouldn’t share, but my brother pushed boundaries. He was who he was, and he worked really hard to get to a place where he could live his life and say “this is me, I don’t care if you like it.” Besides, he loved that he had amassed a collection of crazy stories that it would take most people a life time to build. I miss him everyday, and I hate that there aren’t going to be any more stories.

About Julie

My name is Julieanna Bucior, but I go by Julie (unless I'm in trouble). I'm thirty one. I am a bookkeeper by day, rogue fashion designer/crafter/amateur baker by night. I spend most of my time feeling like a kindergartner trapped inside an adult's body. I love reading, hanging out with my crazy cats and being silly. I'm pretty much the girl next door, with a twist.