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Showing posts from May, 2007

Circle of Life

As a child, the first thing you noticed were the thick, black curls and the sparkling green eyes. My mother called him her "wild Irish rover" because he never stayed in one place for long. It wasn't until he was nearly an adult that the diagnosis of AD/HD was made. Unfortunately, by that point, his life had become a dark, lonely hole from which he could not escape.

Through the years, when news of Timmy was less than hopeful, I would often call to mind the image of him as a young, laughing baby of three. There was a picture of him and I and my other brother at the beach. I am struggling to maintain my "cheese" while trying to keep him corraled for the picture. His face is lit with a smile that melted hearts.

Last month, after battling lung and heart disease, my brother Timmy, my mother's wild Irish rover, died of a massive coronary at the age of 51. At his funeral, several people mentioned that he looked at peace. I had to agree. The agony of a life battling d…