Death. Loss. Heartbreak.

I had a writing project two weeks ago that had nothing to do with the Big Damn Book I've been working on. This was neither a project I desired or particularly enjoyed. It was my big brother's eulogy. It centered around him as my hero, my friend, and my brother. That's a 7-year-old me, touching my brother's football helmet when he was a High School Senior. To say I always looked up to him would be a gross understatement. 54 years old, and he passed away due to cardiac failure while having a routine medical procedure on his shoulder which had him under anesthesia. One moment, fine, fun, cheerful, laughing. The next moment gently slipping into sleep, his body relaxed for all of maybe 20…

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