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Today is a day that I find myself reflecting, each year, about what might have been. On March 1, 1963 my older brother Mark was born. He was born with a variety of birth defects which brought about the end of his life three days later.

Every year, on the anniversary of his birth, I reflect a little bit on how different life might have been, had he lived. I would not have been the oldest, but the ‘middle child’, given that my parents would have had a third child after having a boy and a girl.

I often wonder whether he would have stayed with Dad or come with our Mother when my parents divorced and whether she’d have been as abusive, had she had a son in the house.

I think about how nice it would have been to have an older brother to defend against bullies, someone older to talk to about family stuff, whether he’d have been supportive when I became independent and met my husband.

I wonder if he’d have loved our adopted son… if he’d have been a good Uncle.

I know that a person can really get lost in ‘what ifs’, that there are never any answers, that ‘what ifs’ don’t do anything for us, except perhaps torture us about things we’ll never know.

Wondering what he would have been like is something I can’t help but do. I think of him often, more-so, I think, as I get older.

Happy Birthday Mark! As I’m celebrating my 48th birthday tomorrow, I’ll be wondering if we’d have celebrated together, how wonderful that would have been.

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