I haven’t really spent any time inside my brother’s house since he passed away.
My parents go there constantly, to be with his kids…. to be with him.
I was invited to spend Labor Day at his house. The thought of going makes me feel wrecked.
My parents are so much stronger than I am. I could never go there as much as they do.
I know if I am there for any length of time, I will go into his basement to sit with his computers, his comics and his music… lay on his couch, cradle one of his snarky nerdy t-shirts and never want to leave.
My heart will never be unbroken.