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I have such conflicted feelings about this. Another brother’s death, as the circle of life continues. It. Just. Feels. Wrong.
Having survived my own near-death seven years ago, I celebrate being alive whenever I can. So it hit me like bricks last May when my younger brother Steve died, and again in December when my best friend Dorron died. These were the first unexpected deaths I’ve ever experienced close to me.
And they were both eight years younger than me. Incomprehensible. It just doesn’t make sense, a life ending with eight years less experience??
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And then two days ago I learned that another brother, Ken, age 62, has died unexpectedly. So now our six siblings are down to four.
I just freakin’ don’t know how to process this. I don’t like it, I’m not rational, of course it’s not rational, it grabs the brain at a far more primitive level than logic can ever address. I’m rereading my post about Steve’s death, and boy is it on target. Death has been around a lot longer than human thought has, and it’s apparent to me that we as social creatures are constituted to not like it, and get upset when one of our tribe disappears.
Ken, like Steve, smoked and drank. Nothing like having some public health statistics step up and kick you in the face.