Winter Moon, Summer Memories

There are people who walk through this world with a kind of cool that can’t be manufactured. My brother Jimmy was one of them.

He once told me he was always trying to catch up to me. I was almost two years older than him—just 25 days short of that. But in so many ways, he didn’t follow behind me. He walked beside me. Sometimes ahead of me. Sometimes into the dark.

Our mom tells the story of a night I ran away as a teenager. I’d somehow ended up over an hour away, sleeping near the lakeshore with people I barely knew. And Jimmy, just a boy himself—maybe 13 or 14—slipped out into the dark, trying to find me. Trying to bring me home.

She only knew something had happened when she saw the dent in the front of her van the next morning. A collision with a deer, and its hair still stuck in the metal. He hadn’t said a word. He just went looking.

That was Jimmy.

He took his time, always. In true Leo fashion, when the rest of the family was packed up and waiting in the car, Jimmy was still inside—getting ready in his own rhythm. Never rushed. Never trying to fit into someone else’s timeline.

Except, somehow, when it came to leaving this world. He left too soon.

He was only 37.

I had the honor of being with him as he passed. I was brushing his hair, and then—he just wasn’t there anymore. His body was still, but Jimmy had gone. His westward journey had begun.

I miss that guy. Still. Always.

So many people in our community remember him. His laugh, his vibe, his music, his quiet mischief. He had this way about him that made people look twice. You knew when Jimmy G was in the room.He wasn’t just my brother. He was Jimmy G—and if you knew him, you know exactly what I mean.

For Jimmy G (Click to hear Winter Moon Journey – a soulful ballad co-created on Suno)