and put it in your pocket; never let it fade away.

Easier said than done.

My brother died last week. My younger brother.

Not unexpectedly. He'd been a drug and alcohol abuser for thirty years. Give or take. His body just flat gave out.

He survived heroin, tequila, and a brain aneurysm. He lost a foot to diabetes. He had hepatitis, TB, blood sugar and blood pressure out of control. And a couple of heart attacks.

What a waste.

He was very intelligent which made it easy for him to manipulate and cheat and steal and talk his way out of trouble.

He was the epitome of, "If you can't be good example, you'll have to be a horrible warning."

He's a warning of what happens when you value getting high more than the family fallout of stealing and selling family heirlooms.

Jeff left two sons, a mother, step-father, two sisters, two brothers, a step-mother, two ex-wives. And a lot of damaged relationships.

We're okay. Mom says she grieved for her son years ago, so this is almost a relief.

Almost.