This is long.
My brother died of cancer in 2002, when he was 20 years old. (If any of that is triggering for you, please don’t keep reading.)
I’ve spent the last 14 years basically existing in the same state of suspended grief that I settled into about 6 months after his death. It hurt to think about him, so I didn’t think about him.
Then my cat died. And maybe that seems like a weird trigger, but all of a sudden I couldn’t keep all my grief packed away anymore.
Anyway, here’s a thing I wrote just after he died. It was published in a modified form in my hometown weekly newspaper, but this is the original version.