Today is not about writing.

Today it’s a bit more personal.  Today I went to a donor recognition ceremony for my brother, Jeremy Adam Tipton Cupp.

My 16 year old brother died in a car accident on 23 years ago, on May 24, 1993.  His death was actually the one that finally got our town to rebuild a road that had killed a lot of people because of the speed limit and sharp curve.

I was 6 years old and remember every detail from that day.  I was wearing my white ballerina outfit with a white tutu attached.  I was playing in the front yard when mom got the call from the hospital.  She rushed us into the van and pulled one of my school plaid jumpers over my outfit.  We went straight to the hospital were placed in a private room with stark white walls.  I am still haunted by the white walls, and to this day have trouble being in a room with white walls.  My mom went to the bathroom and saw them wheeling him down the hall with blood streaming out of his ears and knew he wasn’t going to make it.

I remember when the doctor came in a told us he was gone.  It was unreal, my brain hadn’t had to comprehend death before, and I knew something bad had happened, because everyone was crying, but I’m not sure I truly understood it until I saw him in his coffin at a private viewing before the funeral.

His eyes and tissue were donated.  My brother’s life ended at 16, but a thirteen year old in New York was able to see again because of him.  A girl here in Kentucky is able to see because of him.  A burn victim healed because of some of his tissue.

I am hoping to finish Dragon’s Flame in time to publish it for what would have been his 40th birthday- December 21, 2016, because I plan on dedicating it to him, but unless I finish it this month, it will probably not be ready in time.


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