An hour ago I received word that my brother, who had been battling cancer, had passed on to the other side. He had just turned 64 last month, 5 days before I turned 53. And with his passing, I now am the oldest of this branch of the family. We never had any sisters, and our only other brother, Jerry, died back in 86. Our father passed in 94 and our mother in 2010. Although we had a niece & a nephew, and me and Chipmunk have 4 kids of our own. He never had any. It feels very strange to realize that your now the oldest, I’ the one that was the hellraiser, I’m the one that was always either getting shot, stabbed, on some fool hair brained adventure somewhere or for that matter being pronounced dead, which I have been 3 times in my life. And although I value my wife and kids, I can’t help but feel alone with this news. News that I wouldn’t even know about had it not been for a facebook post that my nephew had posted tonight. I had no idea that he was even back in the hospital let alone had died because his bitch of an ex-wife never bothered to call me. And before anyone dares comment on that, we would have gotten along fine i she hadn’t commented about my getting married to a Filippina. Just because she’s a racist doe’s not give her the right to dictate how I live my life and I made it known. It never effected the relationship me and my brother had though for we wouldn’t allow it to. And I give a rats ass about any money he might or might not of had. I DO THOUGH want certain family heirlooms, the paintings that our father’s father had done, my mothers fathers little wagon that he had when he was a kid and the family photo’s that would mean jack shit to her. And, being that I’m sure that he had made his final arrangements, if they are for cremation, I want his ashes. These things are NOT up to debate!