Three days after my brother died, my father was in the hospital. He just did not want to live anymore. Before, he was fighting and loving life.
My brother died of cancer two years ago (1998), renal cell carcinoma. He was my only real brother and I didn't know what to do. I'd never been so desperate in my life.
Through the process of specifically writing this memoir, there was so much reckoning that I had to do. It was very difficult. It doesn't erase anything that happened, but I think that it was healthy for me to do it. The teenage self-loathing that I suffered from all of a sudden found itself turned into rapids with my grief after my brother died. I turned it inwards. In the same way that my mom processes her grief and her problems. This project, as a memoir, has helped me funnel it outwards.
I keep my skin - especially on my face and neck - out of the sun. My brother died of melanoma eight years ago, and I've got SPF on all the time, 24-7. It makes you realize, the sun is a wonderful thing, but it can be a very devastating thing. So sunscreen is key, and a lot of laughter, too.
Ironically my brother died in a car accident shortly after Airbag was recorded. He's not an identical twin so I didn't care.
I died upon that mountain. There is no question. A part of me will forever be upon that mountain. Dead. That's my brothers died. If there's a part of me that live, because of my brothers. Because of them I am still alive, and I can never forget, that no matter how much it hurts, how dark it gets, or how far you fall. You are never out of the fight.
I was not sorry when my brother died.
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