Tom Kechter 12/29/64 – 5/21/15

A year ago today, my brother, Tom Kechter, passed away – way too early – at the age of Fifty. It’s taken me most of the last year to wrap my head around his passing. Grieving. Assessing. Accepting, as best I can.

I miss him every day. For great parts of every day. For all of our lives we (at least) spoke nearly every day, usually later in the night when most everyone else had gone to bed. We’d talk about the day, about physics, comparative religion, comic books, the state of the world, magic (he was a close up magician), stand-up and filmed comedy (he was a stand up comic for most of his adult life), about writing (we both wrote and were published). We’d talk about family, about his daughter Molly, or my wife and daughter. Usually the talks – a lot of them lasting for hours – degenerated into peals of laughter – sometimes to the point of a giggle-fit, as one or the other of us said something that would spark the other.

Now, on the anniversary of his death, I am finally ready to say: “I miss you, Bub. More than you would probably believe. If there is life after death, I hope you’re in a good place, having fun, and at peace. I wish we could meet for tea, like we used to do, and talk about superhero movies and Bill Hicks… Really, about all of the things.”

Tom is survived by his mother Anna, his daughter Molly, me and my family, along with hundreds of friends, extended family, and anyone who saw him perform live for them.

RIP, Brother. I Love You.

Tom

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