Thirty years ago tomorrow, on November 21, 1984, my brother, John “J.”, was brought into this world. J. was the first of three (fabulous) children and the only boy. On July 18, 2001, J. died suddenly in his sleep at the age of sixteen. Autopsy reports indicated that the cause of death was unknown due to cardiac arrhythmia. A healthy, sixteen year old went to bed one night and never woke up.

J.’s life was just beginning. He was approaching his senior year of high school with dreams to become a forensic psychologist for the FBI. Ranked in the top 5% of his class, nobody doubted that he could do anything and everything he set his mind to. He truly had a hunger for knowledge and valued education more than anyone I have ever known. His dry sense of humor and contagious laugh could light up a room.

As I am getting older, I am finding that life without my older brother is becoming increasingly difficult. As a kid your siblings annoy you. They call you names, talk when you’re trying to watch Punky Brewster, put your favorite doll in the bathtub so she won’t cry anymore and maybe they break your finger. But then you grow up. You grow up and realize that your siblings are the only other people who understand what it’s like to grow up in your family. They are there to remember the great times and the not so great times. They are there to cry with, laugh with and complain to. Your siblings become your friends, something you never imagined as a kid.

I never got the chance to be “friends” with J. I missed out on visiting him in college. I didn’t get to call him and ask him to talk me through all of my required courses in undergrad that I didn’t understand. He never got to buy me the mandatory 21st birthday shot or pose in family wedding photos. He never got the chance to see me as more than just his annoying little sister. I often imagine that aside from the fact that I still talk a mile a minute and tell bad jokes, he would actually like hanging out with me and we would be friends.

I think of how wise and insightful J. was at sixteen years old. I think of all the advice he would have for our “baby” sister as she approaches milestones of her own. I imagine a memorable 30th birthday celebration filled with family, friends and countless laughs. Tomorrow (and everyday), we celebrate 30 years of J.; a person who changed so many lives in sixteen years and has continued to do so since.

Cheers
Xo