My brother died eight years ago, putting an end to a three-year roller coaster through hell that still doesn’t feel real. The shock of losing more than half of my immediate family fought with the relief that they were no longer suffering. That WE were no longer suffering. Because for three years my mom and I were trapped in cancer whiplash, unable to truly grieve my dad, then my sister, because there were more treatments, more scans, more prayers.
And then there wasn’t.


