"It seems like happiness is just a thing called Joe..."

Tomorrow it will be one year since my brother, Joey, died.  I was up all night thinking about it and it amazes me  the memories that come flooding back when I'm alone in the dark in the middle of the night.  It's truly the worst time of the day for me.  It's the only time I have totally to myself without anyone or anything to distract me and I hate it.  I can remember every time I made him laugh, every time I yelled at him, every joke he made at my expense, everything he ever said to me, even his facial expressions and his speech pattern.

The fact that it's already been a year alone is enough to make my head spin.  What's happened to me and in my life in that time is just incredible in so many ways.  But anything good is as bittersweet as it comes.  I think about him every single day almost constantly but in order to control myself I have to push him into a corner of my mind where he's there but not really there.  If I think too hard it literally becomes unbearable to think that he's really gone.  I'm not one for kids and never really have been, but I love Joey & Joshie more than I knew it was possible to love another person.  Anyone who knows me can probably attest to that, even though there are some who think they know me inside and out but in reality know nothing.

Joey was truly an extraordinary kid.  I suppose anyone can say that in retrospect about someone they loved who's passed away, but in this case, I think a lot of people share my sentiments about him.  From the day he was born, he had this power to bring people together.  When my mother was pregnant with him, we had all just moved into a large house in New Jersey.  We were two families, neither of which wanted to be there and who couldn't agree on anything.  Then, this little boy was born and we all loved him to pieces.  If there was anything in that house that made us a "family" it was Joey (and later on, Joshie).  He had a strong personality for a little boy and he reminded me a lot of myself.  He was always watching and listening and I always got the sense he knew what was going on.  He was always looking out for people around him.  Even a few days before he died, I remember my little cousin, Palma was crying outside and he heard her in his practically comatose state, not even able to keep is eyes open, and said, "What's wrong with Palma? Is she okay?".  When he was diagnosed with cancer and people started holding fundraisers and things for him, he did it again.  Brought people together.  My friend, Angelina and I put on a little Cabaret show to raise some money for his charity fund two days before Christmas and I was really overwhelmed by how many people (friends & strangers) came out to sing, donate, and support him.  One thing I've always said about Joey and Josh is that they're the two most grateful kids  I've ever met.  Any little gift you'd give them or any little thing you did for them would always be met with a big smile and a "thank you!".  I remember once I got them these silly little comic books from the dollar store just in the check out line and when I got home I handed them to Joey not even thinking about it and you'd have thought I just got him a new bicycle.  He beamed and ran to get Josh and John (his father) "Hey Josh! Look what Vincent got us! Dad! Look it's Spiderman! Can you read them to us!?".  When I moved out of my mother's every time I'd see him, he'd give me a big hug and say "We miss you, Vint.  We haven't seen you for a while".  He was the easiest kid in the world to please.

The night he died, I was on my way back to my mother's house but first had to go to a concert Matthew was doing in Montclair so I could drive back to South Jersey with Robin & Gene.  At that point he wasn't doing so well and we knew it was just a matter of time.  Toward the end of the show, they sang a really beautiful spiritual hymn that I can't recall the name of, but it made me cry.  It was the first time I'd cried in a while and I just got this feeling.  I knew.  It was like an instinct.  As soon as the concert ended, I went out to find cell phone service and found out that he had died right about the time they were singing that last song.  It was like he was saying goodbye to me and oddly enough in the place where I'm happiest, the theater.

I know Joey knew I loved him.  I remember talking to him in the middle of the night when I'd stay over my mother's (he was an insomniac too) and we'd have real conversations which is rare with an eight or nine year old.  He was a very old soul and was always listening and eager to learn.  Even a year later, I don't know that I've fully accepted his death or let myself feel the full force of emotion I know I'm keeping at bay out of pure fear.  A lot of people have always had a lot of things to say about me and it is what it is.  It doesn't get to me so much anymore but the one thing I will never forgive or let anyone get away with is ANYONE saying or implying I don't or didn't care about my brother.  How dare anyone (and in such a certain and accusatory way) tell another person how they feel!? Particularly when it comes to death.  There's no handbook that tells you what to do or how to handle these things.  I've watched a lot of people I love pass away and a lot of lives cut short but still nothing could have prepared me for the range of emotion this brought out in me.  And mostly in private, which to some people is practically a crime.  If you're not making a fuss, posting seventy facebook statuses a day, and dramatically throwing yourself into an open grave, clearly you didn't care enough, right?  Of all the emotions and feelings I've had about this, that part of it is the only one that actually makes me angry.  Anyway, it's all over now and I'm sure anyone who had anything like that to say to or about me did so out of grief or a need for validation at the time.

The point of all of this is that it's important when grieving the loss of a loved one, be it a child or someone in their nineties, to do what you have to do to get through it.  Find the support you need and try to ignore the rest as hard as that may be.  No one has the right to tell you how to act or how to feel.  It's a deeply personal thing and the only one who can truly know how you feel and what is right for you is YOU.

In the final analysis, I suppose the only thing one can do to move forward is to count your blessings and appreciate life that much more.  I'm definitely a moody one, but I'm grateful every single day for my home, my friends, my family, the things I've been lucky enough to do and see and the things I still have to do and see before my time is up.  I live for the time I get to spend with the people I care about and no matter how much time that is, it never seems like enough.  I guess that's a good thing in a way.  Joey may have only lived nine years, but what he was able to do in those nine years in terms of generating love and togetherness in people is something I've been trying to do my entire life and I'm still working at it.  So, even though I'd give anything to have him here, At the top of my list of blessings is the fact that I had the privilege of knowing, loving, learning from, and being loved by such an incredible little boy.  I love you, Joey.

Goodnight, Sleep tight

Don't let the bed bugs bite.

If they do, hit 'em with a shoe

Beat 'em till they're black & blue.