My brother
A small, black leather wallet. Used, worn, and carrying the scent of the jeans my brother used to wear.
A plectrum faded from the many songs he played on his bass guitar.
Memories. Too many to fill my mind at once.
Love. Too deep to ever forget he was my brother, my only sibling.
Photographs of receiving a kiss from him at the age of 4. Another one, his arm around me in the back garden in Belgium. He’s joking around, warm and catchy like a summer breeze in Ireland. His broad smile standing at U2’s recording studios in Dublin.
How does a mother ever get over the death of her firstborn?
How do I deal with his legacy?
I do not want him gone; I need him here.
His voice, a forgotten memory. I cannot recall his voice.
His treatment for a tumour in his brain on the day I heard I had a high probability of having MS. Our brains acting out on the same side of our faces, with similar symptoms. His illness was treated that day, mine with me forever. The wheel of fortune favoured him that day, and I am still glad it did.
We never fought, and we never answered each other’s comments by slamming doors and walking away. We talked.
We talked, but not enough.
His love and joy for his children—no man was sweeter than my brother. I saw the tears in his eyes when my niece arrived and the twinkle in his eyes when his son was born.
Grief is a tear in my mind when others talk about their brother. A hug, an embrace I cannot feel anymore. A future we will not share anymore.
There is a silence I cannot place, memories that are beginning to fade.
The silence he leaves behind follows me in places in Ireland I know he would have loved, places he would return to time after time.
Will I ever see him again?
Will I ever hear his voice again?
I cannot recall his voice.
2018 Winner Best Blog Post, Ireland Blog Awards by Ashville Media Group, Dublin, Ireland
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©Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2025. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

22 Comments
memyselfandkids.com
Really well written and touching.
Your brother sounds like a wonderful guy.
Billie
Thank you so much Larry!
memyselfandkids.com
You are welcome.
TheArkenstone
All that’s left of us are memories.
Sweet thoughts of you.
I’ll remember all of them.
Mostly the good times,
But sometimes a bad one will sneak in.
Then I’ll remember we pointed at each other, and
it will become a good memory.
You wouldn’t think such a small thing
as our first snowball fight or our last one
would be important.
I do.
I remember them now.
There are things I’d rather forget,
But should I ever have the need,
or start to forget,
I’ll think of those days,
and recall the sweet memories
of you and me and the childhood we shared.
Written just for you.
By Debra Bergner
Billie
Wow… just catching my breath… thank you so much Debra, I so, so appreciate it!
Experienced Tutors
Very, very touching.
Billie
Thank you Dean.
mewhoami
Your writing proves that you two had a special bond and a love that was unconditional. That is beautiful. My sincere condolences to you.
Billie
Thank you for your kind words. It’ll be 7 years soon but it still feels like he passed away yesterday. Lots of memories, lots of love still.
donna owens
God bless you, you are a very wonderful writer, and shows your beautiful heart
Billie
Thank you so much for your kind words Donna!
moore314
A wonderful tribute and loving memories. He was with you when you penned those words, He can hear your voice, you just can’t hear his. Why was he put on this Earth, with Your family? I hope you find some solace.
Billie
Thank you so much for your comment. Sometimes you want answers where there are none but yes, he is still here.
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Billie
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Billie
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