Friends might come and go, but siblings are with you your whole life. Or are they?

I have two fantastic older sisters and one younger brother. I also had an older brother and a younger brother who passed away some years ago. All of them are amazing in their own ways and have influenced my life. I could write a book about each of them, but it would be poorly written and filled with foul language. I'm joking (maybe 70%). I'll just say a few things about my older brother Del (1966-2004), maybe the worst offender.

Del was mean. He was hard to be around. This was true for me, all of my siblings, and my parents. Thankfully I also had sisters.

For those who knew Del, did you know that he kept a personal journal for much of his life? He actually filled multiple 3-ring binders. Unfortunately they were all lost when he was evicted (in Oregon I believe) from one of the many places he lived. (side note: For a year or so I had collections officers hounding me because he stole and used my identity in order to pass background checks required for apartment rental.)

One thing Del really liked: loud rock music! One thing Del did NOT like: police officers.

Del had serious problems and it would be fair to say he brought them on himself. But it would be more fair to say that it's impossible to understand all of the circumstances and experiences that lead someone to do what they do. I think Del was dealt a hand that we can't understand.

Del also had a lot of good qualities. We had some good (and bad) times together as brothers, fishing in Japan. He could be very friendly and fun, and funny! He was super resilient. During his last couple of years, he fought and overcame some hard things, if only for a time. I had some interesting conversations with him during that time and was shocked at how close to God he felt. He also told me some personal things about his life. (Man, I wish I had those journals!)

Del is also responsible for my most memorable Thanksgiving. He came home for the holidays one year and everyone was stressed, probably because of family drama and fights that he caused. We always wondered what valuables would go missing after a visit from him. Mom was too exhausted to make a Thanksgiving dinner. So Dad took us all out to eat at Benihana's in downtown Salt Lake City. And afterwards as we were driving home in our giant suburban Del said, "Hey. It's Thanksgiving. Can we drive past the rescue mission?"

He gave directions on how to get there. He knew exactly how to get there. Del knew homelessness first hand. He knew what it was like in Utah in the freezing winter and he knew it in Oregon and California too. When we drove past the rescue mission it was totally silent in our suburban. I looked out and felt grateful. But the thing that drove it home was seeing the look on Del's face as he quietly looked out the window.

I see homeless people differently because of Del. And when I think about Del I feel grateful for a lot of things I normally take for granted. I was given a totally different set of circumstances.

I'm attaching one of my favorite portraits of Del, where he looks happy and ready to rock. But if you want to see some less happy portraits you can look him up on mugshots.com.

I'll think of him again this Thanksgiving as I often do.