Obituary of David John Dundara

Dear Little Brother,

Over the course of a lifetime, each of us builds a long list of memories.    For me that list begins with you.   I clearly remember the day Mom and Dad brought you home from the hospital:  Stephanie and I were in the back seat, very excited, touching you.   We were three years old.  

Mom and Dad spent the months before your arrival impressing on me that my role as big brother required me to protect you – and to never hit you.   I used to climb up on your crib so that I could look down on you to make sure you were ok – but also to see what you were doing.  

You learned pretty quickly that I would never hit you – even when you hit me first or deserved it for some other reason.     You were always smarter than I was in that very practical way.

I was proud to be your big brother, and I felt good when you looked to me for protection.   When you reached for my hand at night because you were afraid of the dark, I felt good – not just because you made me feel important, but because I was afraid too.

You made me feel good in many ways, like when you yelled “way to go Danno” at my graduation, when the crowd was warned to stay silent until all the names were read.    I never told you that.    I wish I did.

Please forgive me for not having done more to protect you and to help you succeed in your battle with addiction.   Today, I feel cheated and mad – at the whole world, but truth be told also at you – now that you are gone.

I will think of you every day.   Just as you were my first conscious memory, you will be among my last.  I suppose this world is not the place for someone as beautiful as you.

Rest in peace Brother.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that you make donations in david's name to your favorite charity.