This post is simple: to tell my brother that I love him very much, and I’ll always be here for him whenever he needs my support.

I love you man, always have - see you in four weeks.

Got an email from my mum in England earlier this afternoon, asking me if I knew what day it was today. I called her, confused… wedding anniversary? No, that was last week.

It turns out that it’s a year to the day that my grandmother passed away. Can’t believe it was a whole year ago - one of the most difficult times for our family, and I feel a little guilty for not remembering. Being over here in New York away from my closest family isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be sometimes. This is one of those times that “out of sight, out of mind” shouldn’t need apply.

I miss her.

Almost 3 weeks and nothing from the Brit Blogger. I feel like such a bloody loser. To say it’s been busy at the office is quite the understatement. Well, my Mum and Dad are ere in the U.S., coming to the end of a 12-day road trip. I got to spend Mother’s Day with her, which was very cool - I actually enjoyed spoiling the heck out of her.

Work is work - but my god is it going well… I’ve billed in more in 5 months than I did in the whole of 2006. 2007 is going to be a great year financially.

Love life is good - beyond good.

Memorial Day weekend this weekend, so 3 days off - can’t say I’m not happy…

I remember it as if it happened last night.

It was about 12 or 13 years ago when my brother said to me, “I asked the DJ to play you a request…”

Uncle S and Aunt J’s wedding reception. For me it was the quintessentially-pivotal moment for my brother and I and our relationship. I realized only a few days ago how remarkably moving the song that he had play for me was going to be over a decade later.

“Brothers In Arms” is a lyrically moving tune from the Dire Straits boys, a song that I was unfortunately bereft of familiarity until that night.

Songs are interpreted in ways that are personally embraced, and this one took the liberty of affording me some tears that evening, and it still does to this day. I miss my brother, and I think he knows it. We have a strong, yet fragile past as brothers, and I wish at some level I could wind back the clock and have another go. Another chance at rolling the dice.

I miss you brother, I’ve missed you from the day I left for the RAF on March 3rd, 1992.

I’ve always loved you.

I know, a full month and nothing from the britblogger… rather busy few weeks it’s been - allow me to fill in the blank. I had a birthday, my wee nephew had his 1st birthday, working my arse off at the office pulling 10 hour days, celebrated St Patrick’s Day with the missus, worked some more, bought a new phone (Motorola Q) as my Razr turned out to be a piece of shit, and various other happenings of note. I think though in all fairness I’ve just not had the motivation to write as regularly as I’d been doing. This is most likely due to me being stressed out at work, or too tired at home to be bothered.

It’s mother’s Day in England today. I know my mam’s sad as it’s the first time that she’s been unable to wish her own mam happy mother’s day.

I’ll try to write more often. Oh, and I’m still a non-smoker.

In the time honored tradition, I want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year - 2006 has been a blast, yet I foresee a truly sublime 2007 - sincere best wishes to you all…

…my love to my dear Mother, Bruce, Andy, Faye, and my gorgeous nephew, Alex.

Sat on the sofa and mulling over 2006. My fingers entice me down an antsy path toward an emotional ache that my heart knows only too well. It’s 10:31pm and there’s fuck all on telly, yet here I am attempting to embellish upon my humble blog the deeply profound feelings pertaining my grandmother’s passing this year.

Death is a natural fact of life. I respect that. I accept that. I embrace. Alas, no level of fundamental understanding takes away the tightness in my chest, the feeling of sincere loss, and the curious wonderment of “why didn’t I hug her more?” that runs through the fabric of my being every day.

I bitch and moan about the fucking subway ride in the morning… that probably won’t change, I’m a whining prick - deal with it. It hit me today while riding the godforsaken shit trip that is the C train, that I’ve become much closer to a part of my family that I seldom experience. Since my grandmother left our lives I’ve received emails and indeed comments on my video post, that moved me - my uncle David that I hardly keep in touch with - an email from my Uncle Stuart that falls under that same category, and I even receive emails from my Aunt Susan who feels now compelled to send me those “send this to 10 other people for it to come true” emails - cute.

I remember the day of the funeral - an event that I thought about on the plane to England. Dread, shear dread. But I look back and have fond memories of that day. Seeing cousins that I hadn’t seen in 10 years. My Uncles David and Stuart that hugged me like they’d never done before, and a beautiful group of other family members and friends that were there to celebrate, and moreover, say farewell to the backbone of our family.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about Doris - one of the most amazing people that graced my life with such unconditional love that one produces a grin when remembered.

I know you’re watching over me, and I want you to know that you’re never far from my heart. I love and miss you terribly. I know you’re safe.I wish I could hug you like that again.

It’s been quite the eventful 2006, considering. A true “single life” looming like 5:59am in the morning waiting for the 6:00am alarm; finding oneself finally embracing a city that was once loathed with such distain and a want for forgiving acceptance; a ghostly apporition of a memory of surviving in an alien existence in this new place called home; a death so close to my heart that has pulled my family together with a force of gravity that’s rivaled only by that of the sun and its third planet’s celestial sister; crossing paths with someone so profoundly life changing that it rewrites the entire book on relationships; the birth of such a gift to humanity that it brings forth such pride through his tiny smile… my nephew, Alex.

[sigh]

This year we were given, shall we say, a reprive. A reprive that has has affected me on a level I never thought I’d be afforded. Beautiful Alex, my nephew. I remember when he was born - the call from my mother, crying, in a voicemail - so happy, I could feel her smile through the airwaves coming to me courtesy of Verizon’s central wireless servers. After holding him in my arms in May this year everything changed. I changed. My mindset changed. Priorities took on new order. A new life bringing with it a level of profound meaning, a clarity that I have seldom experienced first hand.

I am proud to be an uncle, proud to be my brother’s brother. Proud beyond words to be my sister-in-law’s brother-in-law. So proud to be the son of my mother, a new grandmother. Proud to have been brought closer to a stepfather that I have grown to love, to respect, to call Dad. Proud to know that my rock of a grandmother had the chance to see him, to hold his hand, before she left this place.

Alex, I can’t wait to see you grow - I may be a few thousand miles away but you’re never far from my heart.

Thank you for coming into our lives. I hope that some day I can teach you that the world is an amazing place full of wonder - opportunity - of love - and to some day shake your hand as a man and tell you I love you.

My nephew, you have changed me.

Without conscious motivation, you make me strive to be a better man.

Thank you.

It’s Labor Day here in the United States, and I should be pleased to get another day off work, but I’m far from elation. I just got off the phone with my dear Mother and caught up on life’s musings, and we spoke about my sweet Grandmother in length. I love talking about her, although even with a cheerful face I find it rather hard to fight back my teary eyes. As I sit here now typing away in my still-numbed daze over my family’s recent tragedy, it’s proving difficult to write with any conviction or fluidity.

I miss her.

There are days when I feel I’m hanging in there, being kept busy at the office without a second thought for anything other than making money (I feel ashamed for admitting that). Unfortunately there are days like today when I’m gripped by grief and a deep sense of loss. Should I be making a more concerted effort to remember her, to talk about her? I feel more often than not when I reflect upon what’s happened that that’s exactly what I should be doing - to connect in some way, to remember. Or is it simply that this is the way I am supposed to “handle it”.

One thing I am certain of is when I do remember her, I smile.

I have no idea what to write, yet I have so much inside wanting to burst. The call I was dreading, came 5 minutes ago. My sweetheart Mamma just passed away, and I’m beside myself… numb… to the core. A large part of me is glad that she’s no longer trying to hold on, in pain, in difficulty.

The next few days are going to be difficult, and I don’t envisage many writings here, save for perhaps an update on my travels to England for the funeral, to be with my family.

My love goes to my mother, whose strength over the last 2 days has astonished me - I am so proud of you, and I know your mother is too.

Andy, I love you - I miss you, brother - I’ll see you soon.

To the rest of my family, my aunts and uncles, cousins and nephew, she’ll be just fine now… and I know for sure she’ll always be watching over us.

Finally, Bruce, you’re a pillar of strength in my mother’s life, and I cannot describe to you how much respect and love I have for you… for your support.

Mamma, I will always love you, and remember you - rest in peace.

I got a text message on Wednesday at the office, my mother wanted to talk. My stomach turned, I just knew something was wrong. Upon calling her, she rattled off what at first I think my ear drums ignored… after the proverbial “what!?”, she repeated, alas, what I knew I’d just listened to - my dearest Grandmother’s health had taken a southern nose dive. Listening intently and soaking up the news, I slumped in my chair and shook my head, slowly… forehead supported by my left hand.

She has pneumonia, and when you’re in your 70’s, that’s never a reason to break open the champagne… I was worried.

It’s now Sunday afternoon, about 3:15 in the PM, and I haven’t slept properly since mid week - especially when I had a conversation on Saturday saying that they’d taken her back into ICU with severe breathing problems.

[flashback]

If I’m ever asked about my childhood, and what events I am most fondest of, they invariably involve my “Mamma”. From spending every weekend at her house and the Sunday dinners we used to have (if you’re British, you’ll no doubt know what I’m referring to), to our Summer vacations in the same cottage - 26 Havlock Road, Great Yarmouth - it still amazes me how I remember that freaking address! I remember her setting up the snooker table on the dining table for my brother and I to play in the living room, and if it was a sunny day, we’d move the setup outside to the garden.

[back on track]

Her time in ICU yesterday wasn’t pleasurable for her… she’s scared, tired, and according to my dear Mother, “just had enough”… the doctor asked her if the worst were to happen, would she want to be resucitated, to which she answered “no”. That hit me in the heart like a 10-ton truck. What the effing hell can I do, but sit here 4,000 miles away from my family and shit myself each time my cell phone rings.

The last couple of days were hard - resigning myself to the fact that she’s very poorly… and today, trying to come to terms with the notion of never seeing her alive again. The worst piece of news to come my way today was when she asked the doctors to take her back to the general ward, as she was too tired to keep fighting what she knew in her heart was going to happen - and she just wanted to be rid of the tubes and oxygen masks in the ICU - to just lie down in peace, with the help of a tiny oxygen mask and the company of my family.

I’m dreading the call today… I just have a gut feeling, it’s going to be today… and it’s taking every ounce of my soul to keep it together.

I love you Mamma, as do we all… my memories of you are so amazing - be proud in knowing that if it weren’t for you, none of us would be where we are right now.

My thoughts are with you… I hope you’re comfortable.

My brother sent me this photo of baby Alex this morning - I have no idea what he’s doing, but I’d like to think he’s singing, and singing to his dad.

Watch out Simon Cowell, this kid could take the 2007 title.

[so bloody cute]

Thought I’d share with you guys the new addition to our family… my dear brother and sister-in-law gave birth to Alex Jay, my new nephew, this morning at 7:26am (GMT), and he comes in at a healthy 8lbs 2oz.

I’m as proud as I can be, and I plan on knocking back several Newcastle Brown Ales right now to celebrate!

My sincere love goes out to my family, and indeed my beautiful nephew, Alex.

Andy and Faye, the feeling for me is utterly amazing, I cannot even begin to comprehend how happy you both must be.

My love to you all - can’t wait to see you soon.

Thursday early afternoon and I simply had to get productive on my ass - in a slump today after waking with a mother load of a migraine, my right eye ball on the brink of exploding out of its socket. What better way than laundry to make it feel like the big hand on my watch is moving in a direction that isn’t in vain…

[scouts flat for erroneous pants and the equally elusive solitary sock]

With a full [and heavy] bag of stinkers I headed to the laundromat. It’s about 4pm and I know that the 24 hour place on the corner of Fulton and Cambridge Place is going to be empty - utter bliss - as on Saturdays, it’s like a freaking linen zoo.

[onto the point of this entry]

After throwing my clothes in the tumble dryer, I took a seat and switched on the trusty nano for some aural opulence. Two or three tunes into it I decided that some sporadicity was in order, so I chose “shuffle” and away we went. Ray Charles and Unchain My Heart got me through the first 5 minutes, then came “The Luther” - Luther Vandross. I hadn’t spent much time listening to Luther on the subway commutes, instead deciding that something a little higher on the BPMs would be more conducive to waking me up for a day’s slog at the office. Luther started and I realized which song the “shuffle” option had picked… “Dance With My Father Again’. My heart fucking stopped. Time fucking stopped. The tumble dryers, yes, stopped. Everything frozen around me - I felt a phantom fist grip tightly around my chest, preventing me from taking a breath.

[history lesson]

I was about 3 and a half years old when my father left my mother and I - she was also pregnant with my younger brother at the time - I know, what a shit. Anyway, typical story, young marriage, kids and stress - he cheated, she found out - [cobra] you’re fired!

[fast forward]

So I never really knew my Dad, and to be honest, never made an effort to reach out to him, contact him. As he’d never been a huge part of my life I seldom think about him, but there was something about this bloody song that just broke the dam and did me in, like a freight train to the chest. The song gripped me in its vice and wouldn’t let go - I kept listening, remembering my dad, listening, remembering my dad… for one second I thought I was going to lose it, right there in the laundromat - I ripped the ear plugs out of my lugs and took a walk outside… one very quick cigarette later and a pocketed iPod, I returned to finish cleaning my “Y’s”.

I got home shortly thereafter and threw my bag of clean clothes on the floor, collapsed on my bed and was drawn into one of the deepest and thought provoking questions in my life thus far…do I miss my dad after all these years? Thought upon thought raced through my head, like a V12 engine and all cylinders firing. All thoughts led to one conculsion - I did miss him.

How is he? Is he married? Does he have any kids? Is he still alive? That question crippled me - what, after all this time, finally growing a sack and moving forward in an effort to actually entertain the idea of tracking him down, I find he’s passed away.

[typing this gives me a lump in my throat]

I need to get in touch with him. I just need to know he’s ok.

I won’t go into too much detail about the past weekend, although it was rather enjoyable. What I would like to make a point of talking about is the call I got from my dear brother, whom lives in England with his wife.

I was relaxing at home on Saturday afternoon - probably around 3/4pm - when I got a call from my brother telling me that his wife is pregnant - such wonderful news.

I AM GOING TO BE AN UNCLE !He was so excited, hardly able to contain himself. He told me he’d called our mother and gave her the news - apparently she almost collapsed in glee! I can just imagine how she would have taken that news… after all, she’s going to be a grandmother for the first time - fabulous!

So, my dearest brother, if you ever come across this post, I want to tell you how proud I am of you for all you’ve achieved in your life, for the amazing father you will be, for the brother you have been to me through our lives - I love you.

My love to you and my sister-in-law - I miss you both dearly.

p.s. good to know you’re not firing blanks ;)