Gone, But Not Forgotten

I went to New York last week to attend the funeral of my brother.  The occasion was very sad.  My brother suffered a series of strokes over the last eight years, each diminishing him a little bit.  Over time very little was left of him, except the love of his surrounding family.  The less there was of him, the more there was for him.

We will mourn, say Kaddish, and remember him. The world is smaller because we no longer have him.

My beloved nephews will carry on his memory, with the help of their wives and children.  I will never forget him, and  feel fortunate for the time we had together.

Now I can place my brother together with my father and mother in a special part of my mind. 

They are gone, but not forgotten.