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A death in the family

Little brother at Castell de Bellver (Spain)

My brother died.

What do I say after that? He was 31 years old.

You know, when I was a kid I knew what I wanted to be. I grew up and I became a trained and well traveled chef. My brother knew what he wanted to be. He went to the right schools for it and he became the violinist he wanted to be. What he accomplished in the last few years of his life is nothing short of extraordinary. Despite everything, that kid found a measure of happiness.

I spoke with my Aunty S for 2 hours. It was surreal. Until yesterday evening I hadn't spoken to her or any of my aunts in over 25 years.

I got an update on my mother but it wasn't a good one.

Me

 

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