On May 23rd my little brother passed away. He had a heart attack and didn't survive it. My family and I travelled back to Michigan for two weeks to help my Mom and deal with funeral arrangements. I've been thinking about this post for a while, and what I wanted to say. It's been about 6 weeks. I hadn't seen my brother in 5 months. We didn't see each other every day and then we moved to North Dakota. I have days where I don't have time to slow down to think about this and then there are days I can barely hold it together. Today is one of those days. I don't have any other choice but to push through. I have a baby to take care of. Not sure how I would be handling it if she wasn't there to pull me through. I don't have much to say that I didn't say at his funeral. It's still not entirely real to me. Possibly because I'm over 1000 miles away from home and not there to see that he's not there either. Doesn't make the hurt go away though.
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