My brother died at age 18, of Hodgkin's disease after four years of illness. It was 1957 and I was 8 years old. I miss him to this day and have only recently been able to grieve and say a real goodbye. Time heals the wounds, but the scars remain.
He was my best friend and a source of incredible love and security. Thoughts of him fill me with warmth and joy, but of sadness too. I'll never know what might have been.
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