And then there were three

Today is the anniversary of my brother Joe's death.  He went into the hospital on August 23rd and battled his way through all the complications from the aneurysm but then lost his life in surgery on September 17th.

I think about him constantly and a lot of times that thought takes me back to our childhood.  He and I both being middle children had an unspoken connection.  We played together as children and laughed and shared our struggles together through our adult years.

Just a week before his aneurysm we lost a close friend of the family and had gone to the funeral together.  He talked of the battle brewing with my younger brother and trying to get away from it before he was too close to the fire when it blew. We were trying to figure out a strategy, as he and I being middle children always try and find the middle ground in every situation and not take sides.  But that time never came...

For three weeks the battle with my younger brother stayed dormant. While Joe battled for his life in the hospital we were once again for the most part a close group of siblings, working towards a common goal of getting Joe healthy again.

The grief in the loss of our brother, the bad behavior and more from my younger brother kept me questioning God, questioning life, and asking why we didn't even have the knowledge of my father to help us through this?

And so here we are 7 years later and still stumbling through the dark trying to understand why these things happen.  Why families fall apart and why we lost someone who had so much good to share with the world?

Today I will remember my brother for all the good he brought to my life and so many others...