I lost a week of work because my brother died.
My brother died!
Who can even believe that. Kevin was only 40 years old, younger than I am.
He was a good person with many excellent qualities. He also struggled a lot with his health. There have been a series of shocks over the past week, each one rippling its way along through my muscles and capillaries and triggering headache and tightness of jaw and you know, devastating sadness. Basically, I've felt terrible, sometimes having that eerie feeling of watching myself from above. There's that meta voice, the one that's like, "Oh wow, she's currently coping with her grief by having a second M&M cookie!"
Other things have happened, too. Like now, I have Kevin's dog, Skip. Skip used to be our dog, and then when his anxiousness about other people's children became too much, he lived with Kevin. He's had a homecoming of sorts and seems to be settling in well with his canine brother and sister.
So, in addition to being someone whose brother has died, I'm also definitely a dog lady. Three dogs a dog lady makes.
And one brother dead at 40 makes me... a person in a sad and heartbreaking club. We'll be okay.
1 comment:
This is a sad club indeed.
My brother Glenn died at age 28.
This is a tragic loss. Sending love your way, my friend.
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