Happy Birthday Dustin

After my brother's accident (on April 15, 2002) my family started a tradition of sending him skymail for both his earthly and heavenly birthdays. We all write him a letter, tie the letters to a bundle of balloons, and send them to heaven...

I've never shown my skymail letters to anyone, but this year I decided to share a letter with all of you. The reasoning behind this is not to make you sad or to make you feel bad for anyone in my family!!! It's more of reminder that life is short and the importance of finding true perspective in the short, earthly lifetimes we are given is very, very real.


Dearest Dustin,

It’s still incredibly hard for me to accept the fact that the last time we were able to celebrate a birthday with you (in person) was your 19th. I remember that night like it was yesterday... We met you and Gregg Stone at the Angus Barn in Raleigh. You kept making fun of my “gimpy” walk; I had hurt my knee playing flag football at school. And you begged me to order the biggest steak on the menu, even though I was a vegetarian, so that you could take it back to your dorm room to eat later. You were exhausted from all of your late-night partying. You complained about midterm exams. You seemed so grown up, yet so young at the same time.

Six and a half years later, I still struggle with the fairness (or lack thereof) in having to celebrate birthdays in your absence. You should be here with us. You should be ridiculously excited over eating a big dinner. You should be telling stories about your fraternity brothers, laughing to the point that your face is beat-red and the words coming out of your mouth are completely incomprehensible. I want to hear you call me “Ashtone” and Mal “Birdillion.” (Wherever did you get those crazy nicknames from anyway?) I want to watch as she mom tries to sneak in a hug or, if she’s lucky, a kiss and then hear her little, motherly squeal as you remind her that grown men are embarrassed by public displays of affection (especially “MPDA”). Most of all, on your 26th birthday, I wish I could see Dad in his eternal pride. I’d love to watch as he lives vicariously through your 20-something life stories, bonding over things like business, golf, music and girls.

Despite being so far away, I hope you can see us celebrating your spirit on this forever-special day. I hope you can feel us loving you from afar. And even though I trust you are in a much better place, I hope you know, selfishly, we wish you would come back, even for a minute, so our family could be whole again.

I miss you and love you endlessly little brother. Happy 26th Birthday.

Always,
"Ashtone"