I had a little brother. His name was Billy. I use the past tense because he passed away when he was 16. He would've been 38 today. I miss him every day of the year, but today is especially hard. He had Cystic Fibrosis. It's a disease most people have never heard of, unless they've known someone with it. It's something you're born with, and at the moment, incurable. When Billy died in 1990, the life expectancy was a lot lower than the age of 37 that it is today. I want to say it was in the early 20's, but I honestly don't remember. But the FDA recently (yesterday as a matter of fact) approved a new drug, Novartis, that treats the lung infections associated with CF. It's still not a cure, but it's a giant step in the right direction. I really wish the advancements had come in time for Billy, but I'm really excited for the children who are suffering now. It's entirely possible that a cure will come in the next few years. They get closer to it all the time.
Billy's life was short, but full. In his life, he traveled to places I've never been, and had more friends than I'll ever have. He played professional billiards, one of the youngest people to ever do so. He touched a lot of lives and won't be forgotten by anyone who knew him. My only regret about his life is that he never met my husband or daughter. I know they would've both loved him.
If you have someone in your life that you were once close to, but aren't now for whatever reason, reach out to them and get reacquainted. I can't imagine the guilt I would feel now, if Billy and I had been on bad terms when he died. As it is, I know that he knew how much I loved him, and I know he's looking down on my daughter and watching over her. I see him in her sometimes, and it really gives me a lift.
I'm still working on putting together the things I want to say in this new blog of mine, but I couldn't let today go by without mentioning him. Even if I'm the only one who ever reads this.
Happy Birthday, Billy!
No comments:
Post a Comment