Barry was the best big brother a boy could have. He was always there for me. We were one. He stuck up for me when I was picked on and he was there when I was sick. He never hit me except for once by accident. He never complained when I needed a ride somewhere and he made a point to include me in things.

We were so different. He was talented and outgoing and I was very quiet and shy. Where he had a multitude of friends, I did not. I had a few friends and then of course I had his friends. To almost everyone back then I was known as Barry’s brother. This was not a name that I got mad about. It was nice to be known like that. His friends became my friends and so they would be for a few years.

Eventually I had my own name. Barry, got saved when he was about eighteen. Getting saved was something that a lot of people talked about but very few actually ever did. My mom was pretty happy when Barry told her. I was skeptical. But I did see him change. He even apologized to me for anything he ever did that was wrong to me. I did forgive him of course. He was not perfect. The major difference I saw in him after that was the light in his eyes. He had a spark of the Devine. His tone changed a bit and he started to go to church, a lot. I, however, remained as I was. It is strange how you can see God right before your very eyes and still deny the way. I guess the path, even if laid out before you, just seems too hard.

Barry began his walk down the path. He sort of left the rest of us behind so to speak. His path would only go on for a little while and then in an instant, his light was put out. The best brother a boy could ever have was gone.

I have viewed my life in many parts. But the most impactful parts were with Barry and then without Barry. From the day he left and for the rest of my life I would always feel lonely. I would have many other wonderful people in my life. I would have my own family in which I know I could not live without. I have had many adventures and many tragedies but sometimes when life slows down and all I have are my thoughts I think on Barry and when I do that feeling of loneliness creeps to the surface.

I find myself sometimes standing in utter quietness and listening for his voice. Hearing none, I move on through the day with that ever nagging feeling of emptiness where something should be.

Time is said to heal all wounds. I guess that is true. The spaces in time where I would feel that emptiness grow ever further apart. Even with all of his flaws I still remember the brother that stood by me. The brother whose name I shared for many years. More than 40 years since he died I was at an old place where all of us kids would hang out when we were young and I saw a familiar face. I walked over and said hello but one of the people at the table was confused as to who I was and the person I knew said, “You remember, Barry’s  brother.” And so it was.