Happy Birthday
I have a brother.
He's older than me, but not by much.
All our lives we've been together, through everything.
Charlotte.
Junior High.
High School.
Sally's rebuilding.
Dad's mid-life crisis.
His stint on Idol.
It's the first and the last that stick out the most because they were the most significant.
I remember the day I came home and Dad wasn't there. The car wasn't there. Mom wasn't there.
Billy had a feeling something was wrong so he went in before me.
He read the note Charlotte had left on the table. I still don't know what it said. he won't tell me, but when I saw his face I knew something was wrong. He was trying not to cry when he told me, "Mom's gone on a trip." I asked why she didn't take us and he replied simply, "Because she's not coming back."
I don't remember much for the next couple days, but I remember how the lino floor was cold and Billy was holding me when I cried.
Grams moved in shortly after that and Billy didn't have to hold me when I missed Charlotte.
I saw that she was a bad, bad person for what she did to three innocent kids and a simple man. Billy accepted my anger without question, without telling me I needed therapy. He knew Charlotte had hurt us. I think she hurt him most, but he'd never show it.
We grew up without a mom. I don't wish that on anyone. It was hard. But I always knew I had Billy, Grams and Dad.
I always tried to be like Billy. My big brother. He was always cool. When he got into hockey? I picked up a stick too. When he got into music? I got into music.
I took a shift that day in April. I stayed in the wee hours of the morning, in the melting snow and the stupid bad singing famewhores. Heather needed to get home to her kids so I said I'd wait. I admit, I pondered the idea of trying out. But this was Billy's, and I was just a place holder.
He called me at the hotel in Toronto one night, sounding kind of scared.
There was a lot of silence on his end of the line.
Almost sounded like he'd been crying.
I asked him what he was afraid of.
He said "your answer."
My answer to what?
"I'm in love."
...why would you be scared of my answer to that? That's fucken great, dude!
"With a guy."
And I hung up. It was the most assholey thing I could think of and I hung up.
I didn't talk to him for a while. I couldn't. That? Wasn't cool.
But I remembered the cold lino again, and how he held me. And I figured, it was my turn to do that for him. So I called. Asked how long he'd known.
"As soon as I saw him."
I swallowed my pride and asked who it was.
"Ryan. From the show."
I resisted the urge to hang up again. Ryan? Of all people, that twitchy skinny bastard?
"When you know...you know dude."
Silence.
"Are you mad?"
Do I have to see it?
"No."
Then I'm not mad.
He called again, a few months back. From Mexico. Something about needing another country between us.
"I got married."
To who?
"Ryan."
I cursed and swore and swore and swore some more.
I realise now, looking back, he's been nothing but supportive and I've been nothing but an ass. He actually jumped for joy when I told him I was in love with Jenny. Same for when I married her. When I told him he'd be an uncle? He cried. He was so happy.
I understand that while I may not like Ryan, he's a part of my life now, jsut like Jenny is a part of Billy's.
It's been said that you can't pick family, but you can pick friends.
I'm lucky that my family? Are my friends.
I couldn't have picked a better big brother, and I couldn't have asked for a better best friend.
Even if he does forget my birthday.
Happy birthday, Billy.
He's older than me, but not by much.
All our lives we've been together, through everything.
Charlotte.
Junior High.
High School.
Sally's rebuilding.
Dad's mid-life crisis.
His stint on Idol.
It's the first and the last that stick out the most because they were the most significant.
I remember the day I came home and Dad wasn't there. The car wasn't there. Mom wasn't there.
Billy had a feeling something was wrong so he went in before me.
He read the note Charlotte had left on the table. I still don't know what it said. he won't tell me, but when I saw his face I knew something was wrong. He was trying not to cry when he told me, "Mom's gone on a trip." I asked why she didn't take us and he replied simply, "Because she's not coming back."
I don't remember much for the next couple days, but I remember how the lino floor was cold and Billy was holding me when I cried.
Grams moved in shortly after that and Billy didn't have to hold me when I missed Charlotte.
I saw that she was a bad, bad person for what she did to three innocent kids and a simple man. Billy accepted my anger without question, without telling me I needed therapy. He knew Charlotte had hurt us. I think she hurt him most, but he'd never show it.
We grew up without a mom. I don't wish that on anyone. It was hard. But I always knew I had Billy, Grams and Dad.
I always tried to be like Billy. My big brother. He was always cool. When he got into hockey? I picked up a stick too. When he got into music? I got into music.
I took a shift that day in April. I stayed in the wee hours of the morning, in the melting snow and the stupid bad singing famewhores. Heather needed to get home to her kids so I said I'd wait. I admit, I pondered the idea of trying out. But this was Billy's, and I was just a place holder.
He called me at the hotel in Toronto one night, sounding kind of scared.
There was a lot of silence on his end of the line.
Almost sounded like he'd been crying.
I asked him what he was afraid of.
He said "your answer."
My answer to what?
"I'm in love."
...why would you be scared of my answer to that? That's fucken great, dude!
"With a guy."
And I hung up. It was the most assholey thing I could think of and I hung up.
I didn't talk to him for a while. I couldn't. That? Wasn't cool.
But I remembered the cold lino again, and how he held me. And I figured, it was my turn to do that for him. So I called. Asked how long he'd known.
"As soon as I saw him."
I swallowed my pride and asked who it was.
"Ryan. From the show."
I resisted the urge to hang up again. Ryan? Of all people, that twitchy skinny bastard?
"When you know...you know dude."
Silence.
"Are you mad?"
Do I have to see it?
"No."
Then I'm not mad.
He called again, a few months back. From Mexico. Something about needing another country between us.
"I got married."
To who?
"Ryan."
I cursed and swore and swore and swore some more.
I realise now, looking back, he's been nothing but supportive and I've been nothing but an ass. He actually jumped for joy when I told him I was in love with Jenny. Same for when I married her. When I told him he'd be an uncle? He cried. He was so happy.
I understand that while I may not like Ryan, he's a part of my life now, jsut like Jenny is a part of Billy's.
It's been said that you can't pick family, but you can pick friends.
I'm lucky that my family? Are my friends.
I couldn't have picked a better big brother, and I couldn't have asked for a better best friend.
Even if he does forget my birthday.
Happy birthday, Billy.