Yesterday, July 2nd, would have been my brother, Timmy's 40th birthday, if he had lived. I have lost many friends because of Muscular Dystrophy. Most of them died at young ages;the majority of these brave souls was just kids. Timmy lived to be the age of 19, he died August, 12 1989.
He was the quiet type. He was very artistic, he could draw, paint, and sculpt. He would use his talent on various projects. Some of his artwork was so detailed, that it could only take a hand as steady, as a surgeons to accomplish such intricate art. I believe he was an artistic genius. He was a perfectionist and his biggest critic.
He suffered and endured more than anyone I ever known. The last months of his life was the worst. Mother tried her best to care for him. He was bedridden before his death and Mom prevented him from getting bedsores. I think about him every day. They say that, time heals all wounds. I say damn the fool that would even suggest that. I grieve as much today for him, as I did 21 years ago, if not more. If you have a brother that is healthy then rejoice.
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