Nearly seven decades...
that's how long I held that position.
Sixty-nine years.
It's a long time to hold a title,
but others have done it,
so it isn't a big deal,
except to me.
To me it's a big deal.
It started in 1947,
and continued without any problem
until yesterday.
My title as Brother has been taken away,
and I am told that I no longer have a brother
to be a brother to.
I've been fired.
Up to that point my brother was in New Mexico,
and he had been having some problems,
here and there, physically,
but I wasn't aware of any problems
he may have had mentally or emotonally.
Apparently he kept those beneath the radar.
He got to the point where he couldn't care for himself,
and he ended up in a nursing home,
and I tried to be the good brother to him,
tried to do the right things for him,
and he turned, for some reason,
and withdrew from that,
from me,
and made certain that I could not contact him,
could not talk with him,
and he informed the staff there
that he was not to be bothered by me any more.
They informed me that they could not discuss it,
they could not talk about anything dealing with my brother,
and all they would say on the phone to me was,
"Thank you for calling, please have a good evening."
So, in effect, I have been fired.
For years I have been a brother,
for years I have had a brother,
and now I find that I am an only child, I guess,
with memories of being a brother
and having a brother.
It is his decision, though I don't understand it,
and I find that I miss the brother I had.
He was all right.
Then he changed, terribly.
On 25 May
he became an old memory

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