08/02/2026
He would have turned 46 today. Instead, he took his life three years ago… just woke up one morning and for no decreeable reason, put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
I will never forget the day that he was born, nor the day that he destroyed my favorite model car, or the day we spent together at Disney World, or his graduation ceremonies, or a hundred other indelible moments of our lives. He was my baby brother. He was supposed to be there, still, if for no other reason than because thinking about life without him never even entered my thoughts, and now it takes up more space than… well, a lot of other pressing issues.
I miss him.
I’m angry at him.
I believe that he would say now that he made a mistake. Because help is out there.
You may not believe this, but it is hard to find. A lot of people talk about su***de prevention, particularly in the veteran community, but very few are addressing the actual issues. Still, it is out there, if you’re willing to seek it out and be open to trial and error.
He probably thought that 43 was getting old. Or that it was just straight up old. As many of you know, it’s not. It was actually a good year for me. Heck, the whole decade of my 40s was pretty boss!
He’ll never know. He’ll never know or experience so much. We, all of those that loved him, will never know the feeling of having his presence in our lives again. It is heartbreaking.
Today, August 2nd, I am remembering my brother, trying to remember all the things.
He was 12 years younger than me. He was my only little brother. He used to look up to me. I used to look out for him.
And then one day I failed.
Now I will feel that guilt and the hole in my heart forevermore.
Happy heavenly birthday, Rob. Love you, Devil Dog.
