Historically, I have not written anything on his birthday. This is not because I am not thinking about him, quite the contrary (I spend most Dec 10th's on the verge of tears) it is because I do not have the emotional fabric to try to put to words how deeply I miss him with out losing it...
That said (and after a good cry already) I am could not help but wanting to try to put words to one of my favorite memories of him this year. My brother grew to be a tough whip of a man physically, tall and thin but tough as nails. Yet that is not how I remember him. My favorite memories of my little brother are from when he WAS little, specifically when he was about seven. He, Weston and I would spend hours down in his little room in our house on Dale Drive playing Masters of the Universe. Though both Weston and I had larger rooms we always played in Cameron's. He had such an energy and love of fun that we were drawn to him. He would spin the most elaborate tales and adventures that we would act out. Many of them involved defeating the "fire monster" in his closet (i.e. the furnace) or the demon he saw in the plaster swirls on his ceiling.
Both Weston and I eventually moved on in our interests as we aged and have since turned into boring men. Not to say the Cameron didn't mature, but he somehow kept that wonderment he had as a boy that made him so appealing to play with. Nothing drove this point home more fully for me than a few days after his funeral. As we were going through his possessions a shoe box was found that was full of all of his old He-Man toys. He had kept them and now I have given them to my boys. As I watch them play and run and scream around the house with these muscle-bound plastic men I see my little brother again, and I smile. Now they "... Have the power!"
Happy Birthday Cameron. I miss you!
