Pearl Harbor Day...

...has a very special meaning to many, many American's.

For my family, the day is very special to us, also, but has a much different meaning. Today would have my brother's 35th birthday. Thirty Five years old!!! I can't believe he's been gone for 14 years and I often wonder what his life would have been like today.

I don't think it was a mistake that he was born on the day that America was attacked by the Japanese. If you knew my brother, you understood the irony. You knew that his life was a constant war. Sometimes it was a war that he waged only with himself. Other times, he seemed to recruit others to fight in his war along side him and other times, those same people were on opposing sides. Sometimes I fought against him, others I fought beside him. Either way, we were always fighting. It was absolutely emotionally exhausting to witness, much less take part in.

My brother's life of a very short 20 years was filled with excitement, drama and most of all....chaos. Thinking back on his life, it seems almost as if he wasn't happy unless there was some sort of chaos surrounding him. His mind was always churning; I don't know that he ever had a peaceful day in his entire life. He rarely rested. He was always on the go and in motion. Unfortunately, as a single mother of a 2 teenagers, this certainly wasn't easy on my Mom. Every time the door bell rang, her heart stopped. Many times it was just the paper boy, or a kid selling candy, or a telemarketer. But even as a woman who is 32 years old, I cannot begin to imagine what it was like for my Mom to constantly live in fear of her son's safety knowing that his constant need for speed or need for "chaos" would ultimately result in his demise. She knew in her heart of hearts that Dennis was his own worst enemy. Hell, we all did. But we were still rooting for him to turn it around. He wrestled with some inner demons that no one ever understood and to this day, we still can't quite wrap our minds around where those demons came from. He was a troubled young man who despite many, many attempts to get his life together ultimately took three steps back after taking two steps forward. That was the story of his life.

When that doorbell rang on Friday the 13th during a hot August evening in 1993, my Mom's worst fears were realized. She knew instantly that Dennis' antics had finally done him in. He had borrowed a friend's motorcycle and took it out for a spin. He was going very fast on a residential street and ended up colliding with a car that was pulling out of a driveway. Rumor's have spun that he was being chased by someone, but that was never proven. Due to the fact that he was not wearing a helmet, he suffered from severe head injuries and survived on life support for 4 days. He passed away on August 17th.

I know raising him wasn't easy for my Mom. On that note, I know I didn't help matters much, either, with my own shenanigan's. But what I do know is that I'm thinking of my brother today and I certainly know my Mom is thinking of my brother today and I think we are both thinking the same thing. We are both hoping that he is finally at peace.

And you know what? When my Mom's doorbell rings now, I'm sure her heart doesn't stop anymore. Although I miss him dearly, I'm grateful that my Mom has finally found peace, too.

Happy Peaceful Birthday, Dennis.