I started to write this on July 18th and haven’t been able to write much more on the topic. Yet still, the urge to document, to witness, and to wonder how it’ll all evolve is strong. I share these incomplete thoughts and know it’s enough:
I met my brother at my sister’s wedding — the first time I met her too. The second time I saw him, it was to watch his body in a casket return to the earth with the help of my other brother lowering him in and my sister watching on next to me. This isn’t dramatized. It’s the simple truth. I met him at a wedding the first time and I buried him on the second meeting. Even when I flatten this narrative down, I still don’t find it any easier to process or understand.
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