I got the news that my brother passed away yesterday. I've been crying off and on all night and I can't for the life of me figure out why. I haven't seen the man in 10 years. My brother liked little girls-he started with me. Now, I've forgiven him for what he did to me and I bore him no ill will. But interlaced with the bad memories are good ones. And I wonder if it is for the good memories that I grieve.
I hope he has peace now. I don't know what demons he lived with. I don't know what made him do the things he did. But I can remember him fixing supper for us. My oldest brother would go to pull Mom out of the bar and then my other brother would try to fix food for the rest of us. Thanks for the cinnamon spaghetti, brother. Rest in Peace.
