June 24, 2020

My brother would never return to our childhood home--the home of his adult life. I knew it. No one had to tell me; I knew it like I knew the love of my parents, by instinct. They never had to tell me in so many words, even though they did and often, but I always--by na...

May 25, 2020

Two days after his admission back into Candler, I received an early-morning call from my brother telling me he was having trouble breathing (I drove the one-to-one-and-a-half-to-sometimes-two-hour drive to Savannah twice a day, so I was a fair distance away). The night...

May 8, 2020

I couldn't quite understand what I was happening right in front of me. Only the day before, my brother had seemed better. Stronger. Having a "good day." That morning, in spite of his J-tube balloon having burst, which would lead us to having to return to the hospital,...

April 19, 2020

 The panic attacks usually came at about three in the morning. Mine; not his. My brother's stress over dying came in short spurts during daylight hours. I had taught him how to breathe so as not to hyperventilate and often had to remind myself when they came in the mid...

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