I Miss My Brother

Today is my brother's memorial service.  I guess now it will finally sink in that he's gone.  Oh, how I wish it weren't true. . .

I have countless memories, but here is what I wrote to share for his memorial service:

I was seven years younger than my brother, but he'd let me hang out with him and he never acted like I was a nuisance. When I was a little girl, we'd often ride our bikes, play darts, and talk about superheroes and Star Wars. As adults, we still enjoyed talking about superheroes and Star Wars.

He was courageous. I remember once knocking on his door late at night because I heard a noise in the backyard and our parents were out. He bravely stepped out into the night to investigate and protect me from harm.

One year, when he was still in high school, he spent his own money to buy me a baby doll with a complete layette for Christmas. Not many teenagers would have bought such a perfect gift for a little girl. He was thoughtful and generous in that way.

There are too many wonderful memories to share, but know that my brother was a very kind-hearted person who loved and cared for his family. He loved the holidays. He had a great sense of humor and a fantastic dimpled smile.

I am so glad that he shared four happy years together with Pam. When he was hurting, she brought the joy back to his heart. I remember advising him not to risk getting remarried, but he said, "She's worth it." And he was right.

He was the best brother that any girl could have ever hoped for and I was so fortunate that I had him in my life for 35 years. He may be gone, but he will forever be in my heart and he will always be my brother. Always.

Sometimes There Are No Words

Though I'm normally very chatty, there are times that words escape me.  Birth and death leave me dumb.  My vocabulary gets severely restricted and I'm left floundering as I desperately try not to offer lame platitudes.

My family attended a memorial service for a friend this afternoon.  Our friend was young, only 53-years old - the same age as my husband.  And now he's gone.

Sometimes there are no words; this is one of those times.

* * *

Is there someone who you wish that you hung out with a little more?  Someone who you keep meaning to call?  Do it.  Do it now.  Walk away from the computer and don't waste another minute wishing or hoping to have someone be an active part of your life. 

We only have so many days, so many breaths.  Our time here is sometimes so damned short and you just don't know when death is going to come for a loved one.  And, believe me, I can attest that you will regret not making the effort to be have a close relationship with them when death comes. 

If you get anything out of this blog, this post, get this: 

Make memories, not regrets.

A Sad Day and a Way to Help

My family attended the funeral for Wendy Talarico this morning. For a woman who died so young, she touched many lives. There were over 1,000 mourners in attendance.

As is often the case, the most heartbreaking moment was when her grieving husband said a few words. He rightfully kept their private moments between the two of them and instead chose to talk about the last six months. That family has been on an emotional roller-coaster since last September; I can't imagine how awful they have suffered. But he also talked about the good things they've experienced. Thanks to the gift of these last six months, they shared a lot of joy. Wendy was able to see their daughter celebrate her 7th birthday, she was able to attend her daughter's Valentine's Day party at school, she was able to see her infant son's first smiles and cheer for his crawling, and she celebrated one more birthday of her own with her family. They had one last Thanksgiving together and a final Christmas to cherish.

He added that just before she suffered her hemorrhage, the four of them spent a particularly beautiful time together. They had finished dinner and, rather than getting the children ready for sleep or watching television, they gathered on the bed and played. Frank tickled their daughter, Wendy corralled their little crawler. . .it sounds like a moment that takes place often in every family. And they will never experience it again.

Hold your loved ones close to your heart. Every single day that you have with your family is a gift to treasure. Let them know your love through your words and actions. Pray for the comfort of those who have had to say goodbye to their loved ones.


I picked up a flyer today and wanted to let you be aware of a way that you can help this family.

Educational funds have been established for each child: Gabriella Josephine Talarico and Frank Nicholas Talarico. If you would like to donate to these funds, please make your donation payable to either child. You may send your donation to:

Pasquale Talarico
362 S. Shaffer Street
Orange, CA 92886