On my birthday before my brother Kimball passed away, he and his wife gave me a card. It wasn't just any card, it was special...It was a pastel pink with several little yellow and white flowers covering it. When I opened the card, a squeaky rendition of "Happy Birthday" played. I would have to dig through my ceder chest to find the card to remember what the poem inside said. I do remember it was lengthy... (long enough for the "Happy Birthday" screeching to drive you crazy...)
However, I memorized the p.s. that Kimball added at the end of his written message. It said: "It's about time you receive one of these cheesy cards before you get too old and decrepit."
I could hardly wait for his next birthday so that I could repay him with a nice cheesy card, before HE got too old.
He died before that day came.
Right after he died, all of these thoughts came into my mind, and I jotted them down on the back of a piece of scratch paper. If he were here to celebrate his 34th birthday today, I would have included this little pentameter in a cheesy homemade card (certainly wishing I could rig up some sort of annoying birthday music to go along with it).
Kimball is my brother and more. He is:
A hand to hold on life’s great adventures
A shoulder to cry on when things are hard.
Someone to laugh with when memories are shared.
A guide in places where I’ve never been.
A listening ear and some sound advice.
A cousin, uncle, husband, father dear—
A gentle voice to sing his girl to sleep.
A good example of one without guile.
A friend who stands by me no matter what.
A golfer, hoopster, and huge Star Wars fan.
Willing to serve with a pure, gentle heart
A missionary in a special place,
He has always been more than a brother.
All cheesiness aside, I miss the bro every day, but especially today.