Albert Martinez

That’s my brother. He was 51 years old. It hurt me to type “was.” I lost him on Sunday January 16th. He died in a motorcycle accident and I am so mad. I am sad. I am devastated. I hadn’t spoken to him recently and I feel terrible. We were good with each other. No fighting. No bad blood. Just love and wishing for good things for each other.

He had so much love and life in him. If you were around him, you were guaranteed not to be stuck at home. He always wanted to be moving. He was an amazing friend and brother to me. I grew up without a dad present and both my brothers stepped in and I loved that. Albert would come home and talk with me. He wanted to know about my life. He wanted to know everything. He took me to my first day of Kindergarten. When I was in marching band, I knew exactly where he was in the stands because he would scream my name out like a wild person.

Albert was the fun brother. He lived life with a contagious laugh and if you were a stranger meeting him, by the end of the night, you were his new best friend. He would remember you always. I lost track of all his friends over the years. He never did. He loved traveling, floating down the river, skydiving, with friends. As long as you can bring some beer and some good music, he was there with his shades and a hat.

He loved Austin and it loved him back. Bartending and knowing the ins and outs of the service industry was his specialty. When he showed up, you knew he was there to work hard AND play hard. When I lived with him for a short time, he was rarely home. He took his dog, Sissy, everywhere and she just loved him. She passed away a couple of years ago and he was distraught. I know in my heart they are together and doing their walks all round wherever they are.

I normally try to write in a somewhat flowy prose, but since learning of his death, and planning his funeral, my mind has been scattered. Certain points of the day, I end up sobbing uncontrollably. I go through pictures and cry even more. My brother, my protector, my worrier, my love is gone. I miss him so much. I miss his voice. I miss the way when he hugged me. He would squeeze me so tight I couldn’t breathe. And then his messy wet kisses on my cheek. I’ll never get those again. I’ll never hear him say “Cool, Cool,” or “Rock on,” when I would talk to him.

The world may have lost their friend. But I lost someone who loved me from the second I was born. I lost my best friend. My heart is shattered and I am struggling to handle my days but I know he is watching over me with my mom. I just wish they were both here with me instead of relying on my memories of them. Memories fade. Soon I won’t remember what his voice sounded like. I won’t remember how loud his laugh was. I won’t remember a lot of things. But I do know I will remember how much he loved me.

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