August 8 is always a difficult day in my family. It's the day we lost my brother David. David was my older brother. He was one of those kids you would think came out of a 1950s family sitcom. He as a good guy, well mannered, funny, well liked, played sports, and was idolized by his younger brother.
We lost David on this day in 1968. He as 16 years old. He was electrocuted from a lightning strike. Yes, it was an incredibly horrible accident. I was 5 at the time. My parents were devastated, and never fully recovered from this. I had to grow up very quickly.
My memories are vague, but here is what I remember. I remember a teenager who always had time for his little brother. We played. He would put my on his shoulders. David was well over 6' tall, so I touched the ceiling.
I remember mom taking me to some of his basketball games. He was very athletic. He would also golf and fish. I wish I had had his skills.
Losing him was so hard. Very hard. My parents were never the same as I indicated. I won't go into details, but if there was ever an episode which changed lives, this was it.
I wish I had gotten to grow up with him. I wish we had more time to play ball, go to games, pal around. I wish he could have done on runs with me. Who knows I might have even beaten him in a race or two.
He left us way too soon.
I thought about David on my run this morning. He would have been 59 this year. Not a day goes by that I wish he was still with us.
My run felt heavy today, and I am sure it was because I was feeling down about the day. Still I always feel his presence, and I know he watches me. Just as I cheered him on as a kid, I hope he is cheering me on while I run.
Charlie