Writings

In memory of Joseph Richard Kincaid, my brother, my best friend...January 7th, 1983

Joey

News received of your decision. While waiting the inevitable outcome I find myself relying upon the memories for which to console the heart and dry the eyes. Those same memories which has brought about who I am. It is with pride and joy that I share them with another human being, regret and sorrow that some of them will be lost in time.

Although I am not a man for revealing the passions of the heart. The heart speaks poetry of who you were and how much your presence brought to my soul.

You are my brother. There is no power in the universe that could, can, or will change that situation. It is God's decree and from it my eternal gratitude is to God.

It was with you I had my first fight. Yet when I had you pinned you overwhelmed me with laughter and I succumbed to the silliness of the event.

When I stood upon the threshold of adulthood, you took note by preparing my first step. It was there you told me about Santa Claus.

When everyone avoided the notorious tale of "The Birds and The Bees", you took me aside and without hesitation told me of its wondrous beauty. I'm sure mom and dad would have gladly paid you for your service.

But most importantly when you found out that you were not born of the same womb, it was not the world or your friends you sought council, but I. I can still remember what I said: "So what! Your still my brother."

Remember the late nights we spent up in the bedroom talking about everything important. It was there in the dark while the world slept that secrets were revealed, promises made, and dreams shared. Sometimes we got carried away, for I can still hear mother yelling for us to shut up before we woke up the whole house. We never did. Only resorting to whispering did we continue until one of us fell asleep. Which was always you.

That's the one thing which stands prominent amongst the memories. There in the night while our confessions were made and the euphoria of brotherhood descended upon us, only the testimony of my soul was heard by the sounds of silence, for you had fallen asleep.

Anyone else would have been offended, but not I. Such an act only signified that you understood the apprehensions of my standing naked to the world and because of it saved my dignity.

I now stand upon another threshold. Far off in the horizon stands the mountain of love. Before I continue forward I must bear testimony. It is written upon the walls of my heart and many times whispered to the sounds of silence. I love you cherished one.

In the final hours you taught me poetry of the heart and the beauty of its expressions. As part of my farewell and paradise's celebration I have written this poem:

No more arguments
about conflicting realities.
Thoughts and perceptions defrauding
the heart's intelligence.
Virtue of conscience stands champion
and silence speaks loudest its impressions.

No more confusion of existence.
Reunions of destiny seeking understanding.
Although measurements of adulthood
cast shadows upon us brothers of paradise,
only the memories gather at the crossroads,
and reveal the secrets of its master.

No more wandering
Loneliness of heart crying in the night.
The dead seagulls torments are over
Yahweh has heard, taken into his hands and spoken:
No more this madness
You are free.

Thank you for being my best friend and a brother fashioned only from dreams.

Your brother,
Stephen

P.S You fell asleep again

“Farewell Joey": by Stephen Kincaid.
Copyright © 1982 by Stephen Kincaid