Now there are three

Thirty three years ago I found myself sick with the flu whenever I went home for  a holiday, or my birthday. I kept getting sick every time I went home for over a year before I realized I didn't want to be there because my mother wasn't. She died that year when she was only 58 and I was 36. I got over it once I realized what was going on.

I suppose I should have recognized the signs, but my body is very good at deceiving me.  I have been sick for over a week. Flu like symptoms that won't go away and tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

This is the first Thanksgiving I will not spend with my brother in the sixty three years since he was born. He died last May and this was the one holiday we had managed to carry on throughout the years. It was much smaller as our children grew up and had children and moved away, but the core people were still there.

I am realizing how important that was to me, how quickly life flies by.

Once there were six of us.

Now there are three.