O Brother, Where Art Thou?

“Love is the price we pay for grief”, I PJhere recently quoted and considered.

My brother would have turned 37 today.

Every moment of every day, we make choices that lead us onward through life. Sometimes, though, there is no choice. There is no chance to alter circumstance.

What if my brother had lived? What if he had not died when he was 19 and I was 21 (I am now 39)?

My life would have been completely different. This notion frightens me sometimes.

I love my current life. But I, still, occasionally, long for the alternate one wherein my brother lives, loves, studies, works, laughs, talks, has a family, has my nieces and nephews, has my back when it comes to our parents, just “gets it” …

To paraphrase Shakespeare: “Grief alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom; it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken”.

What if … ?

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