mac the knife

did you know i have a brother named mac the knife?

well, it's really spencer mckay. mckay when he was little. mckayla when i was being mean. spencer when he was being cool. baby mac to me before he got tall. big mac when i wanted to apologize for something.

but mac the knife was who he was. i don't really know why. it's just a name that came up through the years. it kinda sounds like the name of an action series or a serial killer. *addition to original post: i was informed by my classy husband that mac the knife is the title of a sinatra song. isn't that just a little slice of divine?* and maybe it is for someone. but that's beside the point. i just remember he liked it a lot at one point. probably at all points. because really, what boy wouldn't want that name, am i right?

please don't get any ideas about this post. it's just some pictures and some words. but i haven't seen my brother in 2 years, and i haven't been able to see my brother in a year in a half. so i miss him, ya know? i think we all miss someone. don't we?

i guess what i want to say is this-- i have had a lot of time to think about how i feel about all this stuff. and i want to say some things about it, because it is important to me. so thank you for listening.

first a little narrative then some pictures, i promise.



see, i really liked mckay from the very beginning. we would play comboys & indians & make real mud pies & later on we would occassionally go to football games & movies together. because we were buds.

he was everyone's bud. or at least he really would have liked to be.

sometimes he wore lots of black or some roller blades to school, & it was all very embarrassing to me, because i had my life to think about, ya know?

sometimes he would pick me up just to show how strong he was getting.

sometimes i knew there was something wrong, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. & one time i freaked out & yelled & threw a broom across the floor, because i thought maybe that would make him talk to me.

one time he called me for the first time in a long time & i sat in my apartment kitchen & cried for no reason.

one time he got a brand new sports car & let me drive it around the neighborhood even though i wasn't good at shifting the gears.

and that was the very last time i saw him.

except in my dreams once in a while. that's kind of a mixed blessing, i think.

here are some pictures like i promised.

{2007}

{a friend who gave more than she took. always}



{the friend who always let him be himself}



{fun-living}





{i promise we don't normally dress like that}



{summer 2009}




{summer 2010}





my point is i have a brother. but i can't see him for a long time, and it really sucks.

but what i really want to say is that it is important to be kind. 

why?

because it is. it is really the most important and sometimes the only important thing to do.

i wish i always always knew that every second, ya know?