I celebrated last Christmas on a cruise boat in the middle of the Caribbean ocean.

In the meanwhile, my brother Dana lay dying in a Sacramento, CA hospital, until he passed away a month later.

I don't know what to say, when usually I do...

Wow, what a cosmic meltdown in the fabric of family. How can we drift so far away from this value?

Now, I'm going to tell you a story.

My brother was abducted by aliens at the age of eleven.

Ok, get your laughter and derision out of the way. Done?

Lately I can't remember what I did the night before, but I remember that night vividly. I was three years younger than Dana and one day we decided to go camping up in the woods.

Two young boys with no restrictions gather up our jungle hammocks (which had a roof and netting), our dog, and hike up into the high mountains of Floristan California.

Floristan was a town on the side of a Sierra Nevada mountain, thirty minutes west of Reno Nevada, consisting of maybe thirty houses. My step dad was a trucker, so I guess he figured that this was a good place to raise a family.

It is what it is. That night we hiked for miles and set up camp at the top of a cool mountain.

We made a fire, strung our hammocks between trees, and settled down for the night.

Around midnight, I was awoken by a very bright light in the sky overhead. I looked up through the netting and saw this circular white hot disc hovering overhead.

I looked over at my brother's hammock and it was empty, and our dog was howling. Suddenly, a mountain lion walked under my hammock. I have since learned these are a diversion. I went back to sleep.

The next morning my brother was back, but never the same.

He lived a tortured life, a good man, with demons not of his own making. He saved my life a couple times, but I never saved his.

Rest in peace my brother, love, Jamie.