Forgive the disjointed nature of my posts, but I think I will return to my brother today. When my older brother David came back to live with us after his stint in the army, you couldn’t tell the difference in his eyes or his smile, he was careful to keep those the same. But the way his back stayed straight up when he sat down, pulling away from the back of his chair and the way he’d stop his hand halfway from running his fingers through his hair. Those things were different.
I was so young, those are the only images that I can recall, the only warning signs that could help me to place his death within the realm of cause and effect. It was comforting once I did, at least then, though my brother’s death was just as sad, it was less terrifying.
