Recently I found out that my brother has died. In fact it was 8 months after that I found out. No one bothered to call and no one got a hold of me. I guess I was not on the call list in the home he was in.
As for his son he got hold of me on messenger and it's lucky I even saw the message request. After a brief interaction I found out my brother was dead.
I thought about calling my cousins but they have had a sad lack of interest in our lives to this point. I figure they would not care one bit, so why bother.
It's strange that after all the stuff he had done I stilled loved him and I cried for his loss. After all he ripped mom off for all she had and we both still forgave him.
Maybe it's because I know his life for years was sad and lonely. He was also living in pain, way more than I have.
He drank away a family and his friends. He left behind nothing of value. But he was my brother. We where both adopted but he was still like blood to me.
I will miss you my brother. You can rest now. You are free from the bonds of the bottle and the pills. I only wish I could have said goodbye, but that was denied me. Rest well man.