12 years

Twelve years ago I was recovering after the search for Brian. He’d have been 47 now, maybe married. 

There has been no news, no body found. I think of him often. Today it was because his nephew, my oldest son, has been using Brian’s old water pack while mountain biking. Sometime I’ll have to let him know where it came from (I don’t want him to worry about losing it).

His parents are passing these days — our mother is unlikely to see another summer.

Somewhere in the multiverse there’s a Brian who didn’t disappear in Whistler BC. Here’s looking at ya brother.